Author Information
Religiously hidden
Folder:
DRUGS N SUCH
Real poets drink coffee
And smoke cigarettes
And get high sometimes
On various other substances
When the occassion is called
By shaman lords of the divine
Lost caverns to brightest sky
*
How am I supposed to sleep
With all these fucking creeps
Slithering up my yoga spine
And flicks its fevered tongue,
Oooh, that tickles, sweet snake!
Now my cerebellum certainly
Is rather rattled and saddled
By the superior nerves of your
Light-speed control over flesh
*
I swear there's a spell in this place
Nobody seems to be able to sleep-
And it's not bcuz the yelping pups;
The witches are out and about.
Madonna hypnosis seductress supreme,
In all her glory on the television screen,
Trickery technology, skeptic enlightment,
The Mormon church promised me a wife
