Rake Stone Stories & Wrecks Left Behind

Bejeweled and crusted mud for the sake of saintly feet
wash with chlorine quick sand and some rancid beetle meat
go to jungle costume parties drag with wicks and flame
stray from vegan matches for your orgy now of heat
stray from match book covers with an exotic sounding name
they will kill your senses soundly and to your captive do the same
they will keep you from the cover of once thought holy night
and in some garden shelter truculent they lead to blame
I thought forever coffee pots and ashcan points of light
writing toilet paper scripture of dwarfs and beasts of height
fleeing constantly the seconds of rotting bands in time
I sought nothing but some sense of illusionary sight
I sought nothing but some fuck at the last call magic line
stumbling chairs and bar stools for a wink or other sign
every time forgetting all the times that went before
and committing floating strings like a cycle every crime
rabbit holes and lucid drugs and labs behind the door
places I used to know hold no reflections anymore
I've been tied to the mountain melting rain water sleet
for a meal I never wanted and a body swollen sore