Senseless words howl like mules
Scared by the wolves, who lurk in hidden shadows
Laughing at the fools that they hunt,
                    as
the sublime erotification of fornication pushes and nudges me through
a hole in the wall,
where on the other side lie maggots writhing in euphoric ecstasy,
as if Nirvana is real, then everything stops
                    as
Senseless words howl like mules
Scared by the wolves, who lurk in hidden shadows
Laughing at the fools that they hunt,
                  as,
Puss seeps from a wound I didn’t know I had,
Worms slip from my eyes and my ears and
My belly rumbles for food,
                   as
the sublime intensification of ten million unsolved crimes,
mottles the joy of the little lily that floats on a pond
with ducks and some swans
bobbing like they’re meant to.

But what about the sublime, (you whine),
Oh come on back with me to mine -
Where we’ll dine on fine wine and caviar,
That we’ll suck from the empty shells
That the walrus left,
Of the oysters who didn’t have a clue.

Get on your knees, and sing to your Gods,
Oh get on your knees and sing to your Gods,
It makes a wonderful tune.
Because at the back of the room lurk the senseless words
Ready to attack like the wolves did the mules,
So, get on your knees and sing to your Gods,
Sing to your Gods,
Because at the back of your head,
Lurk the mule eating wolves
Who’ll pant as they wait
To devour your hate
That bubbles in denial in
The nothingness you think exists.