just want to thank God for helping me write, and the opportunity to share.


523 sibley street sibling
rivalry in suits and
  (yes reverend)
nails that staple us to our eternity
    city mightily resting upon
its haunches devouring
the young and the restless night
     the suit coat screams very loudly
     trying to scare off the city
     force it into submission into
     an admission of its guilt
     but the city doesn't give a drooling
     care as it lathers over another
     morsel
ebon moon draws into its gaze the vision of struggle
 and wrinkles its hobgoblin face into a grin
                               there is death
                               death in satin pumps
                               death in tie
                               death in mini skirt
                               death while fundamental
                             reproductions of last
                           century's evangelists
                      exercise two and a half foot arms
inside...
inside the protestant reformation
fills its belly with expensive half-
baked Mexican food and gripes
about the church split back home.

          we try to pay our water bill with spare change
          and get mr. armstong to take out our trash
                            (the spaceman comes on thursday)
          but there'll be nothing left to eat nothing
          left to drink no there'll be nothing left
no babies, no atmosphere, no northern ireland(angerland,
wrathland, ghostland), no elbow room(elbows?), no body,
nothing,
nobody.
then shall we
take the afternoon off and nothing too seriously?
...

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