death on venus

To Paul

the east china sea is quiet and calm
my weather changes with the mood

a hard yellow line leads up the hill
(this flesh is linger fickin' good

I want to pray but to whom and how
what gestures to make and what pains to rend

perhaps I can wave at a plane suspended in air
and then I'll begin to unbreak rather than mend

the eye in the sky it roars at me now
full of riveted metal and godliness

the madman littorally screams in the ei
he must be given a knowing audience

someone at ornhub dot com really knows
what the word interstitial means

walk for an hour? wakaranai
there's a gaping hole in your jeans

add a steady refrain that carries you on
with each step a sin to confess

please repeat after me I've done a whole lot
more for a whole lot less

why try? the wind is a squirrely squall
that will snatch your pronouncements away

walking back to my fate
the menacing airbase is dark

trumpets in the park work in shifts
and the gust  the gale  my god

how sound makes me high
the clouds flatten and the wind lifts