Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The False Messiah Of the Dublin Fire Brigade

link to website update


Rubber butter jesus baby
you bloom with acclamation you
buy cheap tickets and
find your way to the
sun god who eats
oh, the universe is waiting for you
those little, little mouths
shaking, scrambling, hoarding coins
clapping clapping at the site of the Hole
whose who's are passing indulgences
along to the members of love
lost in space
eating sausage
scrambling to touch the cosmic rock


Hey! Butterfly!
do you have a stomach?
Are you blessed?
will you give kiss to a dreamer?
Where is your silence?
Why is your majesty weeping?
are you a keeper of loyal hearts?
Do you stand in the absence of Zion?
you, who were born with no mouth
you who plummet to the ground beyond the
end of your flight
you who know the astounding meaning of
thirty-two feet per second.

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