The dawn of my betrayal is the succor of life,

the pillars that shake their viny veins

are pushing the bridge

into the fading cushions of the sky,

the burial grounds carved by mossy rivers

are sparkling with spiritual fire,

the rocks heave like sweating lungs,

the wires of propagandized existence

are trembling to snap,

I walk the dead streets in a live erotic trance,

pagan, sensual and cruel

in this Christian and liberal nation

I am alone, the roots bend like frozen taffy

and then break like elastic,

what has been stolen

is given back by broken temples,

the strands of sweet divine life

are repaired by renegades,

the spice burns,

the mouth of hell is bringing

heavenly scrolls to a holographic boil.