The fog of religion
continues to hover
over the earth,
its poisonous fumes
smothering freedom
and pleasure.
How often will we
have to kill god
before this bloody specter
stops haunting our dreams
and turning this world
into a nightmare?
*
I have watched brown vomit dripping
from the mouths of politicians and
putrescent preachers
It blends with the bloody wine
of their divine and patriotic
drunkenness,
toasting to their
sacrifice of someone else’s youth
and joy and life
for those stinking turds
that they call god and country.
*
The windy sails
of a gypsy parasol
dance on the roof of a
mastodon’s tusk.
The ancient finesse
of a poet with switchblades for eyes
and a tongue made of virulent hammers
is smashing through
the shadowy prison bars
of your desiccated
god.
*
Simpering fools
devour their dreams
like a wren in love with a giraffe.
I danced in the volcanic butter
swinging through trees
made of fur
and wandering through the graves
of those gods
that form themselves
from the feces
of earthworms.
*
Wherever the withered
cunt of a nun
deposits its fecal dreams
for the heavenly charade,
an opiated dance
of divine cock
swings withered from the trees
of a preacher’s rotted tongue
and desire finds its way
through a corridor of blood
to kneecap some protestant
pope.
*
“We shall always and gladly be dreamers”
This is the cry
that pierced the vagabond night
of orangutang rebellion
when the collars of priests
were made of hemp
and put an end
to their joyless
braying
when the badges of cops
were switchblades
firmly planted
in their hearts
when the institutions shattered
to the roar of unfettered desire.
*
Eleven dancing bluebirds
paid a visit
to a pope
They vomited
into his mouth
to drown the sacred
sermons
They showered him with
the finest guano
leaving stains upon his robes
which took the sniveling
toadish shapes
of his shit-licking savior
and his bum-fucking
god.
*
Floozy primed
like a grey giraffe
goes running through forests
of priest’s legs
The spreading of cheeks
like feathers on a peacock’s ass
can see into the distance
of time
This is how a crater
volcanic on the moon
went dancing with a god-like
hyena.
*
Suffer the little ones
to vomit on a halo
despising all enforcement
of prayer
The sacred is
a slimy eel
wriggling from the anus of a god
whose favorite pastime
is buggering dead rats.
In his putrid temples
the worshipers leave offerings
of shit..
*
Our father who art
a dismal syphilitic fart
vomit all over your own shoes
Your pathetic cock hangs
limp and festering
caked with the crap
of your own anal mouth
You are the putrid
rat-sucking simpering spook
adored by a billion debrained lice
If it weren’t for you diseased slime
I’d stick my turgid sword up your
crepuscular anus
But no
better to vomit on your
empty pointed head
*
Feckless Jesus,
stupid cuntless dog,
you make me want to spit nails
through your melting skull
flaccid as a putrid rotting slug
your cock slipped off
and crawled through mud
toward your vapid virgin mother’s
rotting vulva
skull crushed like a walnut shell
in the personal desire
for the collapse of mindless vampire fish
that swim up your anus
with switchblades
and slice the putrid slime
off of your syphilitic nose.
*
Sickly spirit of righteousness,
your limp and rotting cock
responds only to the harsh stroke
of the whip.
You whimper now before the fierce upbraiding
of a child who shed the false cloak of innocence
to shit upon your sacred head.
Her laughter is a knife wound through your withered tit,
a deadly poison seeping through your melted brain.
You are the god of breathing corpses,
seething in your own morbid juices.
The echoes of your horrid word
sounds precisely like the music
of an elephant’s fart.
*
Bilious patterns of righteousness
vomit their vile and godly toxins
over utopian dreams
of marmots and rope swings
and feathery caresses
corroding their joy
and transforming the succulent fruits
of a luminous dragon
into the murky sludge
of the holy word.
The joy of explosive possibilities
that dances with serpents of unfettered thought
is drowned in the mire
of dogma and unending judgment.
I hide the glowing sapphire of my dreams
deep within the pocket of my lust-encrusted rags.
It is the sharpening stone for the dagger
that I’ll plant within the heart
of every hateful savior.
*
Crapulent Christ
the demons of your own guilt
bugger your pustulant wounds
taking in such foul infections
that their cocks fall off
like maggots
that writher and wriggle
over your shit-encrusted toes.
The cannibal feasts of your faithful
poison minds
until they melt into
a toxic soup
fed by gloomy reptiles
to the children of the damned
to ensure they never
learn the songs of monkeys
or don the vibrant robes
of ancient birds of paradise
which would transform them
into mighty rebel dreamers
greater than all gods…
*
The baleful eyes of judgment
cast their putrid poisons
out across the world.
The swirling dance
of golden monkeys
pauses for a moment
and the birds of paradise
shudder in their undulating trees
as this pestilent shadow passes overhead.
But upon a thread of iridescent silver
two lovers are embracing
in an intertwining dance
of sweat and passion.
Devouring each other
with an octopoid love
set aflame by their utopian lust,
their fire dispels all judgment,
for these miasmic fumes
that escape from dripping rotted eyes
are nothing but the stink
of god’s putrid, rotted corpse.
*
Wedged within the veils
of a rabid donkey’s dreams
a very green potato
was to sing of all the violence
of god
The marinated song
descended like
a rain of frogs
upon the bloody oceans of
a wounded albatross
Within the quarter hour
a church collapsed
a politician choked on babies’ heads
and a cop melted into peanut rust.
*
Frivolous anteaters
dance through dark dawns
like the bullets that aim
at heads of state
A flashing dark antelope
leaps toward the sky
defending the lovers
whose marmoset eyes
flash lightning
into the abyss
Within the circular
dance of our gods
this is the flame
that destroys all their power.
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