TERMINAL HIEROPHANTIASIS





we bow our heads in unison & listen
to benisons in latin as we
sit on satin cushions
in silence
with violent visions
of serpents & surplices &
sacred bullocks & cassocks & castration
casting lustral pearls
at lugubrious swine
that wallow in goodswill
on the dunghill of time
popping corn & copping porn
pages from hoary wisdom torn:

O HEAVENLY FATHOPE
GRUNT UNTO US
IN THIS THE HOUR OF OUR SORDID GREED
WE PLEAD WITH BEADS OF GRUBBY CREED
IN CHUBBY FINGERS

from the foulpit to the pulpit
of the chosen pew
we send forth solemn nostrums from the rostrum
to our beloved token jew

FORGIVE US OUR FOREFATHERS' FORESKINS
AND GIVE US THIS DAY A DULL RAP ON THE SKULL CAP
OR SOME CLAP TRAP

oh we think we know we see
whom & how & whatsoever we should be
for all is ultimately
part & parson of
immortality
(so help me)

wherefore this common porridge:
this grim & gruelling gravy
in which organisms sink or swim
suspended in acute & minute animation
doomed to drink & be drunk &
perchance be merry or to suffer
indigestion &/or
indigestibility?

BY THE MONAD'S GONADS,
ANSWER ME!

we bow our heads
over supper sipping soup
but does it really matter
if tablemanners are observed
or if slurping sounds delicious?
after all the tiny whiny citizens
aswoon or aswirl in their own dire mansions
in our soupy microcosm
are also busy bowing pious little heads
over teeny weeny bowls of
perfect beans...
And be it so.



1969/1986
You've read the poem, now listen to the soundtrack!



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