Post by paphnutius on Jun 24, 2008 3:53:50 GMT -5
satie she’s no christian and
that ain’t saying much of anything at all
but she know jesus up in heaven
begging old god for another go,
that she don’t see nothing wrong
with dancing at sugar’s
swaying silk white hips
just a little smoother for
just a little extra flow and
satie, well, she know it could be worse
like being another orphan american
child soldier in a war, a confused
death disease got her busting out
her camos running through ancient
dirt roads in government issued
underwear, giving terrorists hard-ons,
shooting little bootleg cd hustling
tikes, combat boot stomping upon
their blown out dusty brains, fork smashing
her uneaten dinner plate peas at six year old,
ripping off her bra and panties cos the splatter
ain’t taint enough skin,
sunburnt tits flying everywhichway,
slicing mother’s throats cos momma
don’t sound too soothing in that language,
tying on decapitated virgin daughter’s black veil
cos her eyes all they’re giving now is a drought rain
since she ain’t dead yet and with them
eyes well concealed satie can trade
in her gun for gravel, she can bow west
ass up into heaven
and pretend that her simple plan
to make it through this shit
will bloom and fruitten sweet but
when the choppers don’t come
when her squadron gets rpg’d dead
when a nation hesitates content
with stockpiled corn, flamboyant
business suit destinies unimaginably
bound to unfold, rotting milk and fluoride
inane words, termite indulgent actions and satie
before she can forgive her own fantasy, before
she drowns in that veil the rape comes
on strong, tenuous at first, communal
savagery eventual so satie’s
talking now to god, or herself, it
doesn’t matter, satie stops crying tho, it’s
the only thing she know how to do when
only her thoughts echo back even through
broken sticky coke bottle shards
clitoral circumcision anext
a desert fire, focused satie on the ritual,
it’s a purification go the drunk
sado-shamans when they commence a train,
the small-dick’d heart thing to do,
something that could be more traumatic
ifn it wasn’t something to be found
anywhere in her midwest hometown, anywhere in the world,
and the shrouded women ghosts in dark
lurking till the men pass out, the
apathetic angels come in from the night
fire illumined blurs with crushed herbs,
oils and dirty cloth, they
come in to help, wash the body,
stop the bleeding and satie’ll
wake up early morning in some corner,
a bed not far away, undeserved, she’ll
stand up and open the blinds to baby blue,
satie lets loose a shower running hot, steps in
getting adjusted inch by inch
till the heat’s another kind of freezing
till she’s leaning her face into the scald
thinking nobody ever said the kingdom’s
gotta be perfect,
nobody ever thinks
they’re going to hell and
jesus say fine pops, fine,
swallows a shotgun barrel, toes the trigger,
satie can’t hear nobody yelling,
can’t think of nothing to help no one,
satie shaves her skin,
dries off, squeezes into a worn black leather miniskirt,
spandex pink tube top, cunts a condom
full of 100’s and highheels it two miles to I-10,
she got a frightened tear to choke on
a thumb up in the no wind
that ain’t saying much of anything at all
but she know jesus up in heaven
begging old god for another go,
that she don’t see nothing wrong
with dancing at sugar’s
swaying silk white hips
just a little smoother for
just a little extra flow and
satie, well, she know it could be worse
like being another orphan american
child soldier in a war, a confused
death disease got her busting out
her camos running through ancient
dirt roads in government issued
underwear, giving terrorists hard-ons,
shooting little bootleg cd hustling
tikes, combat boot stomping upon
their blown out dusty brains, fork smashing
her uneaten dinner plate peas at six year old,
ripping off her bra and panties cos the splatter
ain’t taint enough skin,
sunburnt tits flying everywhichway,
slicing mother’s throats cos momma
don’t sound too soothing in that language,
tying on decapitated virgin daughter’s black veil
cos her eyes all they’re giving now is a drought rain
since she ain’t dead yet and with them
eyes well concealed satie can trade
in her gun for gravel, she can bow west
ass up into heaven
and pretend that her simple plan
to make it through this shit
will bloom and fruitten sweet but
when the choppers don’t come
when her squadron gets rpg’d dead
when a nation hesitates content
with stockpiled corn, flamboyant
business suit destinies unimaginably
bound to unfold, rotting milk and fluoride
inane words, termite indulgent actions and satie
before she can forgive her own fantasy, before
she drowns in that veil the rape comes
on strong, tenuous at first, communal
savagery eventual so satie’s
talking now to god, or herself, it
doesn’t matter, satie stops crying tho, it’s
the only thing she know how to do when
only her thoughts echo back even through
broken sticky coke bottle shards
clitoral circumcision anext
a desert fire, focused satie on the ritual,
it’s a purification go the drunk
sado-shamans when they commence a train,
the small-dick’d heart thing to do,
something that could be more traumatic
ifn it wasn’t something to be found
anywhere in her midwest hometown, anywhere in the world,
and the shrouded women ghosts in dark
lurking till the men pass out, the
apathetic angels come in from the night
fire illumined blurs with crushed herbs,
oils and dirty cloth, they
come in to help, wash the body,
stop the bleeding and satie’ll
wake up early morning in some corner,
a bed not far away, undeserved, she’ll
stand up and open the blinds to baby blue,
satie lets loose a shower running hot, steps in
getting adjusted inch by inch
till the heat’s another kind of freezing
till she’s leaning her face into the scald
thinking nobody ever said the kingdom’s
gotta be perfect,
nobody ever thinks
they’re going to hell and
jesus say fine pops, fine,
swallows a shotgun barrel, toes the trigger,
satie can’t hear nobody yelling,
can’t think of nothing to help no one,
satie shaves her skin,
dries off, squeezes into a worn black leather miniskirt,
spandex pink tube top, cunts a condom
full of 100’s and highheels it two miles to I-10,
she got a frightened tear to choke on
a thumb up in the no wind
