FIRES OF VENUS: “demophonic!”



quick quick quick! call the exorcist!

that spiritual warrior armed with water

a cross and black book because

I need his rain dance and wooden wafers

to chase away the insects

that buzz and bite and stitch nests

in my throat it’s their fault

all theirs not mine not me no way

I haven’t always been like this

I don’t like to belch bad breath

and demon wind I don’t particularly enjoy

waking with my head screwed on backwards or

having the pigeons attack me every time

I step out of the goddamn house or

the toilet refusing to flush what I

feed it every morning

not when I dream of clean sheets

and soft voices and guitars that slash

A N T H E M  again and again hey

have you found that number yet?

these days die like broken-backed birds

that tumble from the lips of the corpse on his cross

really it’s discouraging to discover the boxes

on your brand new calendar already chalked off

tik tak tok gone oh well (we sing) another year!

the devil sends his beast with wrath because

he knows the time is short, yeah yeah yeah well

he can get the fuck out of my head anytime

because the bastard hasn’t paid rent since

christmas and the goddamn check bounced

and —wait a second, are you for real? you

found the number? it’s ringing? it’s ringing!

it’s… a recording.


Boston, 1989

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