Saw the cursed sea curtsey
to the devil’s breath
heard the textbook autotuned hymns
of black brainless death
Gardens full of beauty
tranquil fountains, flowery haze
filled my dreams until they entered
set the place ablaze.
A lot can happen,
‘tween now and never
but would I trust trafficking,
if remotely clever?
I would have to, now or never.
Being bad shields isn’t error
it’s a fucking feature
I can not, in these days,
see God for his creature
for his creature
I’ll catch the first boat that’s coming in.
And then the vessel downs
and everybody drowns
if they can’t swim
and whoever’s let in
is left to roam
asked to leave
without a home
without a ways
and being such fine shields
these days
the blood on our fields
will again go unseen
go unseen