Monday, December 04, 2017

phantom hope





a million miles of static on
pilate’s radio but the fucker wants to dance



tells you the crucifixion is
all in your mind



says it’s a waste of time
being in love with an addict



thirty years and nothing to show for it but
cold sunlight down early morning streets



st elizabeth on her hands and knees
and crawling into the ocean in
some warmer corner of the world



silver chains and a cross of
gold and what if she can’t
remember her child’s name?



what if every moment is
the one that matters most?



you stumble through each one blind
only to end up lost



only to end up holding your
father’s ashes
in the middle of the freeway



a million miles of static in every
direction and that fucker judas with
his hand up your lover’s skirt



with his teeth filed down to
chrome points and his
tongue dripping poison



gives us all one last kiss
then says goodbye


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