pupils spread wings,
causing doves to float
above the Holy Ghost
illuminating footsteps in the sands
of whores, heathens, lepers and the downtrodden.
Built a flux capacitor out of mushrooms,
turned the dials, flipped the switches of source-codes,
bending time and space,
to come face-to-face
with Jesus in Nepal.
Yeah, Jesus and I dropped mushrooms.
Picked him up for a ride,
we jumped through the eyes
of the People-In-The-Sky.
Brought Jesus back to the future
in a DeLorean of Divine Spores.
The Anointed One,
the Mushroom King of Kings,
was not at all impressed with 2012.
"Good Lord! People created a religion in my name!?
Temples, rituals and books all created in my name!?
What a disaster, this is exactly what I was trying to move away from.
Hey! Those are not my words in that line! I never said such a thing.
How did this happen!?"
"Father, O Father Deer-Hands, why have you forsaken me?
The Golden Calves still dangle from the Vision Tree."
And Jesus spilled forth a sorrowful rain.
Clouds boiled overhead,
thunder crashed like the war-drums of Cain,
lightning arced, evaporating the tears from Jesus' face.
His eyes shone with fury,
an aura of white light illuminated from him,
washing over me in waves of euphoria,
prompting an idea to light-up in my mind --
Jesus could use the mushroom-flux-capacitor
to head further-back into the past,
and add a little twist to the plot.
People shun me as an unbeliever,
as a blasphemer,
as they drink the blood and eat the flesh,
take sips of wine and break the bread.
But I have shed the scales of the living dead,
dropping mushrooms with Jesus.
The physical church of cloned abomination
dashes apart on the unforgiving flesh of plastic and concrete,
of cruise missiles, Gucci, Prada, politics and Polo,
while in the sands, doves and the Holy Ghost
illuminate the footsteps of whores, heathens, lepers,
the downtrodden, vagabonds and inter-galactic travellers.
May 16th, 2012