not since when last october lied

not since when last october lied

have I dared to cry

on the submission of a crusaders sunken chest

where once a souless christian

danced with the drooling saxons experimental holy cross;

high upon the hills of a jerusalem lost

where once a king, mangled the brains of an incarcerated flood

while hanging from an eyebrows twisting limb

where I walked through the parted blood of a disciples peasant sex;

through the veins of an amaranths evicted purple sprouting

disfigured and discarded

now lame between the smouldering breasts of a goddess dealing dope

it is the eternal hope of where a serpent in suspenders

straddles my bereaving taste of a prostates battle cry;

a thimble juice of god

nimble and fucked and tucked up in a heavens ball

a petrified yet pasturised semen glassed between the eyes

it is no suprise

the disguise of a pregnant prayer still peels away the skin that covers my atheist tongue;

it is the queen of old el salvador

that has ruffled the feathers of my chequered flag of uncromponising interlect

where the suspected whore bored into the sunrise of my extreme

and deemed my sorrow as nothing more than an intravenious drip

feeding from the garbage can of a sunflowers medalling squeeze;

not since when last october

drifted on the sleaze of a contrived and infant song

have I dared to become the lyracist

that has dared the world to die and sing alone

with the pretence of a god pretending surplus

with his plastic scent of a costumed savage rape;