the wolf laughs at the moth fire
while clothed in the purple robes
of golden hate and he talks to the
crying prince who wanders lost
through the land wherein the nun
flies and gibbers and gallops past
the iron fence feasting upon
the souls of innocent children
and thus starving to death
down the well lives ancient Grath
raped by the slobbering hags who torment
the baying moon with their brass eyes
as they leap into the clouds
and tear at God's breast to reach his heart
until they fall into the river of night
brainwashed monkeys fling shit against the walls
of the bloated giant's house
grown fat upon the blood of a million argonauts
amber rain slashes through the collected dead
and only the capering witches
survive the holocaust of their kind

09/28/2001

Posted on 09/28/2001
Copyright © 2025 Gary Hoffmann