Church Dirt

When I first came in the door, you cleaned my feet with cool calm currents in a bird sized bath [7]

Now I bathe my breath in brandy [17]

Though it just as dirty, deceitful and desperate

How do christians fuck?

Non-prophet missionary style?


Though I did enjoy the way the pine scent stayed in my sub-conscious

Yet not the way the scaly cloth scrubbed the “sin” from my souls

Tickling my feet and mind to challenge time

How do I fuck?

Closed eyed and drunk?


But Jesus is so hip

Long mane

Tattered clothes

Who wouldn’t want to lay with that for eternity?

Let my feet rise from your perpetual pull

May I walk as flesh of my flesh and blood of my blunders

Laughing as I choke on conifer brine

I swivel and swerve through depths of time

Joshua Tool – 02/01/12


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