ÌýÌý
ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýWell
of course I don’t agree
Kelly was not raped.
She did not give herself up
She’s no hussy, no prostitute.
Her finger dipped in the jar on infamy
She enjoyed the sour hallucinations-
Searching for the grail,
The Mediumship, the Buddha and his journey.
ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌý
If Jesus came back one day,
Would he be a ring leader in the circus of Ireland?
Oh impostor, Oh ruffian.
Would he rocket earth back
Surely it is already? Surely the sand we once knew
Has been swallowed by the crab
The sea drunk by the whale,
The mountains crushed to peanuts by the eagle.
ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýThe
desert swept and boxed.
Oh my darling Philistine.
This is not your childhood, your reasoning, your idea.
God is not inside you. His cabin’s built in Thunderbay
Where the First Nation toast his abiding temper.
The alcohol is not bootlegged, the gangster’s out
of work,
He sits in the local bowling alley, shoots up in the street.
Eighteen hits, eighteen pins, ‘’ LA DE DA, I
scored’’.
ÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýÌýFor
all my junk ideas, this incoherent mishmash-
Maybe I want to move on and forget the past.
Maybe I’m tired out- rung out- strung out and at only
twenty-three.
The towel is dry and the boxer ready to take on his rivals.
Perfection in the red smile.
Abracadabra
God beats the drum
DUMB DUMB DUMB.
