2003-09-27 - 6:27 a.m.
Drawing ever closer to the purging Potentate;
a brand plucked from the fire of the urge to gloat and hate,
all those subtle streamings and entrapments of our leanings,
preferences and dreamings of the crapshoot of our gleanings
Breakdowns at the Wayside Inn and there affliction's fires begin
as good intent turns into sin and still Hell Bentley burns within
a different grade petroleum
a fuel of carbon oxygen
and something we call life and then...
I don't know... it was sweet and it was harsh
especially when the island marsh
scented on the overpass to fun
musky sensuality on the run
becomes the sinking quick sand when it's done
and totally devours everyone.
have you ever witnessed someone go berzerk?
See the screaming wit's end bummer shake and jerk
as they spit their violent hatred in your face
and you begin to understand the basket case
has crossed the edge and gone into that psycho place?
well, it's very hard for memory to erase...
a person you once thought you knew went raging blind
how can we turn to blaming scapegoats in our mind?
the frying pan that we jump out of
to escape what we're not proud of
leads into the fire that roasts the fatted hind
until the soul evaporates out of the cycle
by something far outside the gates of brain and psyche
oh, I allude to what we have no faculty
to experience short of divine decree
but still it doesn't take a rocket dork to see
this is the draw of purging Potent mystery.
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