Fist

Broken glass embedded in rubber.
The city is sad,
it cannot hold my anger.
The fist is dynamite connecting
making my dream a missile.
A sugar cone of death
or a pocketful of hate.
When someone pisses you off in traffic,
RAM THEM!
Or better yet
seek out a seduction.
I have an unreasonable passion for sinning
and sainthood
transcendence
true magic
religious sex.
Come sinner
and be baptized
by my holy water.

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press