there is no crass
do not pardon me
there is no love to feed on
i'm hungry
life's a gas
there are no heart strings
left to pull
(i played them all at twenty-two)
--
on a small hill in an imaginary place there is a golden cross
exalted in a pronounced venus de milo
under moonlight a dark woman cries for fucking
bare, she cries for love.
you buried your namesake and your mother's heirloom pearls
in my soft wet pussy
the last time we spoke
---
there is no god
there is no saviour
this is not a joke.
---
exalted construction workers bend sideways forever
when sirens sound they make up
and every time they hack
someone dies
the world over
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