Grinding the Boys
Garbage in and out. Be healed.
This is the Nude Deal.
A cycle of the star-blind sky that de-invents the wheel.
Glimpsed behind every mad eye a world within
that cloaks the insensate dance of Lucifer on the head of a pin
downing a million angels to a life of sin.
Keep them coming. The world is made of flames of every kind,
an errant eye in the space-time of the blind.
Diseases are made of star stuff that sneezes,
I’m rearranging my stellar desires in the phantom breezes
and I’ll give you 13 stripes for 50 stars in endless grind
that seizes on the flesh of the unfortunately enmeshed.
You took your chances with me, now I’m your electricity.
I’ll turn on all the windows in your flesh-combed city
a world to the light in the collusion of beauty and gritty.
I’m your beast of statements against the well never do,
do your heroes speak to you only when spoken to?
I want to hear about your version of events, I do, I do.
This is a warm, humane taser and pepper spray confiture.
Have you ever felt safe with the men in blue?
Under their hats does security think freedom needs a good talking to?
Break them in, break them down, break the civilizing impetus.
Where there is no voice, there will be violence,
speak to me only of inhuman forms you can not naturally be
mutated and disfigured in the name of liberty.