Water Elsewhere

Let's leave the old world behind
climb in our space ship
and start a better life

And when our rocket ignites
spewing white flames into a
blue midsummer sky

I'll want to hold you tight
we'll be the first in flight

Then, when we land, our fragile hands, they will be trembling
What gave us life would then become an emblem of remembering

This is a transmission
to most everything that I love
its depressing

but you have the strength to go on
like we couldn't

Citizens of tomorrow's world
what place do you call home
When it is over there will be scores
and you and I will
be alone

Citizens of tomorrow's peace
what do you dream of
when you're asleep
Is it the horrors of yesterday
or is it only electric sheep

The Talk

I asked a girl if she was a virgin.

She said she never gave a fuck.

Hipsters

Vacuous collectors of culture
place what treasures,
procured from fresh burial mounds,
upon the sepulchral table
or the sepulchral book shelf
or the sepulchral mantle.

Holy, holy, holy,
more self-appointed priest
of days past
than rebel, inhaling
even the smell to consecrate
your supple bodies.

From dust to ashes
in the sepulchral tray,
anoint your forehead
with a nicotine patch
to preserve sacred youth
or reinvent your faith.

Preventative Measures

Kill me
if I ever start

The Sun Sets

Every fifth year Jesus walks into the middle of Times Square and, with a colt revolver as a guarantee and blows his brains out. It is never the same time of day, but always on January 1st so all day residents avoid the square, usually staying in altogether because there is always a chance they will forget what day it, walk through the square, and ruin their favorite coat.

Tourists, on the other hand, pack into rows upon rows of seats, fill the balconies, or pretend to be searching for something in the Disney store while keeping an eye out for a man with long hair and a 45. This is surprisingly hard to nail down considering the number of imitators that, whether it is religious fanaticism or celebrity trend-following, choose to take their own lives after growing a full head of hair. Consequently it has become a noted sign of severe depression to have hair past the shoulders.

On occasion one of the more traditionally devoted spectators will attempt to talk Jesus down as he pulls his luxurious hair back over one ear and clicks the hammer into place, but, with a look of dull courtesy he always responds, "See you next time" and it is over.