The old dog took a terror walk
lower than the sweaty Point,
lower than the rocks and whores;
all in all, to an awkward joint
“‘Til death do us part” met its match
when he smiled and lost his heart
to a wettened devil
in an unwagered game of catch
“Never mind” he said “for it was old
(and it’s high time I lost some weight)
My blood may run slower
but slugs don’t mind the cold
All I need is a tree to piss on
(to mark my grave),
a map and a flapping soul
towards rock ‘n roll and hedonism”
Do you know who the prisoner is?
(Judas views and weathered testament)
Do you read reflections well?
(Petrol slickened for eager flint).