We travel light for speed.
We have no truck with you.
We're a class of tigers -
all spit-fire and tension.
It looks good.
It feels good.
We have a mission.
Stand on your hind legs.
Thirst 'til your tongue swells.
Roll in the hot sand.
Scream when the bone breaks.
Sweat and smoke your cigarette.
Sit on the hill and wait for a sign.
Blue-throated reed-man spinning wildly toward your center -
grabbing you where it counts -
where it's real -
and slapping life into your
numb
dumb
cr
u
mbli
ng
existence.
Licking the salt from the cheeks of her ass.
Dreaming dreams of infinite questions.
I rattle my sabre in a demonic sub-plot.
I plan, design and execute a tattoo -
glorious, cruel and proud.
Whip me with the leather strap of "wanting."
I work the juju for your desire.
I work the juju for you.
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