I Want To Kiss God On His

I Think It Will Be A Miracle If I Don't Someday End Up Killing Myself.

I Who Was A House Full Of Bowel Movement, I Who Was A Defaced Altar, I Who Wanted To Crawl Toward God Could Not Move Nor Eat Bread.

Man Is A Bird Full Of Mud, I Say Aloud. And Death Looks On With A Casual Eye And Scratches His Anus.

Watch Out For Love (unless It Is True, And Every Part Of You Says Yes Including The Toes), It Will Wrap You Up Like A Mummy, And Your Scream Won't Be Heard And None Of Your Running Will Run.

I Can Only Sign Over Everything, The House, The Dog, The Ladders, The Jewels, The Soul, The Family Tree, The Mailbox. Then I Can Sleep. Maybe.