DREAM

Sshh…Don’t make a noise

Do not disturb the boys.

They are making the plans.

They are dreaming of when

They will turn into men.

But boys play with toys

Which soon turn to tears

And in dreaming of years

And the turning of gears

In the making of men.

Men who think of back when

They were making the plan

Of becoming a man.

It’s not easy to be

The becoming of me.

The man in the plan.

The Peter pan

Who doesn’t want to grow old

All he wants is to hold

Onto the dream.

I

I want to take off my clothes.

I want to take off my skin.

I want to burrow within.

I want to dismantle my bones

I want to destroy my erogenous zones.

I want to start to rebuild.

I want to start getting filled

With something that’s good.

With a new kind of blood.

With a loving kind heart.

With a brand new start

I can do anything.

FLAMING HELL

The devil has his satisfaction.

In the rotting flesh

And putrefaction

Of the ones who die.

The ones who lie

In sweet repose,

Deep underground.

Where worms crawl all around

And gnaw at oaken caskets.

Looking for

Their very own Chicken in baskets.

They can burn me.

Turn me

Into a flaming shish.

That is my wish.

Screw the devil and his acolytes

I’m getting toasted by the hot gas pipes.

He can have the cinders

Just make sure the tinder is dry

And do not cry

As I lie on the pyre

And wait for the fire.