The Sick God Child

LOVE me — drain dreams
of kids who lost love___
whip dogs snarling
who you feed with a hand
when your mood changes
whip the woman who loves you
you’re sick and can’t help it
now you walk in society
and people smell your sickness

Hmm. Hmm.
smells like wet leather

God asks, “what are you?”
You say, “a dangerous whore“
and where i am walking steps
counting my seconds and laughing
cause the world is sick like me…
yeah.

We ask for more — not me, not you
but them ; those mourners
who hate life like a service
beating a drum — crushing my skull

ooh, like my mind going numb
and we sing the same song
between the spaces of silence
sound of Heaven as a bell.