Friday, September 21, 2012

The Carousel of Kings

I'll flirt with blasphemy
That you may kiss a glimpse of
God
Tip-toe 'round heresy
And cuddle up
Upon the bleeding altar

I'll set a c-note flaming
With salted speckles in
Both my eyes
But offer
My very last dollar
To these gilded
Paupers

I'll dance like a drunkard
No,
I'll slump my shoulders
And cradle my brow
And clutch my wanting cup
And tap the table
Off.........beat
Like a drunkard
Like a prophet
Scraping his chest
With yellowing nails

I'll call your bluff
Believe me I will
One of these days
But for now,
A bottle of water?
$1.25

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Songwriter, Poet, Heretic