Fraternoster

Of tea and pipe,
briefly to booze
in scenes I write
in scenes I snooze

a vaguery of ecstasy
what's a rave?
a train punk's destiny
as with Neal, I crave

the midnight hour
a soulful shift
from fourth to third
a verdant rift

between the folds
of frontal lobes
and in the cache
of my short soul

I long for you-a,
my supple God
I seek you out
on dusty sod

two tracks appear
in neck of woods
one spotted bare,
one interviewed

a silly thing
the mass of men
heads jolting forth
and back again

denying too,
the validity
of penchants for
virginity

of mind and body
of style and grace,
a burial cloth,
bears your face

the Jesus 'tod
of Burzum sinks
into the hand,
lottery brink

in lonely times
and simpler ones,
my race (be run)
a mask undone

corpse paint on dogs
and moonlit bogs,
revelry in dreambuilt
smog

the face of doom
is nigh, is nigh
infernal womb
for those to decry

and we all wept
after the sixth
hail mary said,
a candle, lit

a jaunty hat
built of dried straw;
you're from Nashville?
land of Hee-Haw

jumping jack flash
and a gnostic bumpkin,
flashlights on phones
for battered sump pans

and twisted metals
unto the petals
of this ripe Iris,
church bulletins

written in Papyrus.