Foreboding clouds, colts of sin
Dark gobblers hurl rain on Mary
Her cloak turns pale, alone she stands
Blind boulders shine, moss sings
Dear, you're turning me into Milton
Oh, how I want to, want to commit!
Hiss like a golden spittle on a stove
Your resurrection, my ascension in steam
Snowing blood, the blue is gone
Trees whisper of moonlit Antichrist
His dirty shoes, love-murky eyes
Remember the whores of Babylon
In those sad days without cell phones
Pigs got caught in the wire
Lo! Potatoes nesting in the road
Are they a symbol of my desire?
The path became sweeter, she's a muse
Scented with drying fresh wood
Oak bread and cakes poured over with custard
Insensible dreams caw at buzzards
