13
© Electric Babylon Music Author: M.M.
Living root in the dead stump, luck will carry you down to passion’s
broken toe, fire hydrant personality, sweet girl kiss the broken mirror.
Electric dead turn the harvest, let the sky fall on the stars, mother piston
feel the mind, turn like a bloody spark plug.
Cement souls in grass of Venus, I’ve stood here thirteen times, rot drink
in unison, the wine of spit good year.
Astral houses in iambic style, sculpture of a ghost in the fountain,
eternity in a fools gold hemorrhage, thought will muddy the motions
cure.
Limp in the ecstasy forum, sky crowded the spectators thirst, the
thirteenth pregnant nurse, cured the no luck impotent doctor.
The wind just sings in the gutter rainbow, was it love that killed the first
lover lust, fly in the folded heavens lap, don’t touch the nickel to the
golden rain.
Groping for the air raid voice, insidious doubt in reality’s tongue, lost in
love potion number thirteen, evil swallows what good spits up.
Don’t dance with fire on a floor of ice, if a lady begs you with universe
eyes, power pump this earth station heart, touch the life vein death hard
pulse.
april 92