The President's Prayer
The President's Prayer
Our fodder who art in cannon
Hollowed be thy blast
Thy shrapnel come
Our lives be done
On Earth where our bodies lie severed
Give us this day our daily rounds
and forgive us our near-misses
as we forgive those who near-miss us
And lead us not into active mine-fields
But deliver us through evil
For thine is the ignorance
The powder
and the worry
Until Armageddon
ABOMB
>>>>>>>>morning.
>>>>>>>>two flies fuck
>>>>>>>>on the edge
>>>>>>>>of my coffee cup.
Pregnant Sky
a.m. hours 9/23/89
at the cemetery
amid broken bottles
& fractured tombstones.
no one cuts the grass
& the Getty gasoline
sign spins circles
above our heads.
the dead rise up
out of their graves
& a great light
fills every crevice
& there is no darkness anymore.
trees grow everywhere
& concrete cracks
& turns to beach sand.
a series of miracles
& the labour thrusts
of a pregnant sky
