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| Sunday, July 16, 2006

INVOCATION

But the king of Hell should have more balls
You’re just a minor demon
Devil’s punk
And in the others you are a suicide
Now that’s about right
That’s about right
I only seem to be able to write eulogies to you
Last night I said kiddush for you
I burnt Indian incense
It was dark
It sent you on your way
On Halloween I’ll light
A jack o’lantern
While your lost soul’s
Off in Elkhart-Mishawaka Hades
Fucking the Fourth
Misspelled Month of the year
No, she won’t last to November
And you might not
I can see your corpse washing under a bridge
I think—my little german—I could write
About that
I seem to like you better
When you’re dead

posted by Chris

at 1:53 AM Permalink