Posted by kid_A on October 4, 2001, at 12:39:59
In reply to Where the pigs don't fly... I do..., posted by kid_A on October 3, 2001, at 11:37:08
OF ROCKETS AND FLOWERS
rockets are cocks and
flowers are cunts,this is all that you
need know in lifeevery other night at
7pm, the mailman
brings fresh milk and
stays until latei am in love with
flowers, how they smell
how they feel, the
touch on your skini think i am in love with
loving them most of alli think i want to
devour them whole like
lions did yoni think i want them
to myself, so that
my mourners can
grieve me in some
filigree chophousei want flowers for
my ears, so that i
can be baptized and
my sins will be
secreted under God's
living room carpeti want flowers in my
bed at night because
they will surround me
and keep me safe
from vampires and
tax meni want flowers for
mother, eight dollars
or so worth of grief
so they can wilt for
her as time permitsi would like flowers
instead of drugs
please, so i can
wake in the morning
fresh in my own
holinessand in love i would
give you 1 single
flower, which is the
whole world, and that
flower would be all
of me, and you could
eat its petals and
grind its stem into
a paste for your
eyesand at Jesus's feet
they laid flowers, and
whipped him with flowers
until he bled them, and
in the end, when he
was reborn, they took
off the wreath of flowers
around his head and
replaced that with thorns
so that people might
die in the cause of
His nameand we could put
flowers on rockets,
and that might mean
something, but right
now, it doesn't, just
as precedence has
meant nothing but
its literal sense,
and we might light
them as little roman
candles, in the
honor of some long
dead general born
in the year of
the dog, just as i
amand i anoint you
with flowers,and i suffocate your
love with flowersand i am suffocated
by them as well, so
don't feel so badand i eat flowers
at night and they make
me drowsy like a
sermonand i wear them around
my wrists so that
i am reminded of
their beauty and
impermanenceand i feed them
to Bill, who lives
on my street so that
he can speak more
of Jesus and
Niggersand i crush them,
and make wine of them,
and get drunk on them
as my life gets grifted
away from meand God bless the
flower, and God bless
the rocket, of whom i
have said little, but
for whom needs paid
it's respect in the
form of this word
here, Saturnand let all the little
cherubs bless us
with flowers and the
Tet show us the
magnificent power of
rockets, and let
us dance for our
dead, and let us
dance for our love,
and let us dance
for our dead
love.
poster:kid_A
thread:12058
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20010927/msgs/12111.html