the mission is to listen to every word
take it to the other side of the earth
like the priest at my death wedding
divorcing hell as it begins to freeze
the hole in my head at my funeral
for my friends who forget to grieve
throw pennies in and make a wish
and i'll haunt you through your days
with the trolls in the yard
dixie whistling with the hellhound's howl
echoes repent towards the stars
when their son is on the prowl
students of the dumb taught to read in brail
eat the sediment of sound
drop the gravestone flowers
kill the red wasps hovering 'round
building nests upon death eating through the hours
arteries are rooted in
the forearm of my sleeve
that's how i wear a broken heart
when i can't tell if it beats
when the gravestone weeps, i check its pulse
alarm clock weeps too loud
i might be dead or on the phone
behind a snowplow
heaven isn’t so cold
poppies in the playground
trickling through my veins
the world is so much smaller
now that i cannot complain
if i ever wake up
there's a pitchfork which fits
in a raincloud made from tires
stitch her whip to her fingertips
and place her in the fire
all the blisters turn on sundays
and your smiles pretends to grieve
my heart rubs swift against her
and the blister can finally breathe
there's roses on her windshield
that's how i know i'm not to blame
there's wildfires on the reaper's face
that's how i know, i'll live another day
her necklace is the crossfire
a man infested pearl
she'll find another oyster
and i'll find another girl
kill the red wasps on the poppy blossoms
herein a freshly planted rose
stem the stemless orchids eternal
and greet them with a poised poignant pose
ferment the brandy fires
for cabbages and kings
defy the fungus and poppies in the veins
eat the cow shit rings
there's no traffic on sunday
when all the leaves are still
the wind is high and so am i
digging my way out of this hill