Grateful For Flesh
If veins pulsed with liquid gold
we'd be lucky to last one night
victims to pyrite-hearted souls
who'd suck us dry before first light.
If eyes and tongues were made of gems
they'd soon be plucked for prophet
by bands of blind and greedy men
leaving mimes chained to purple sockets.
If arms and legs were made of ivory
we'd be cornered then quickly quartered
by hordes of desperados and poachers
for the sake of filling godless dowries.
If souls were woven from emerald
and hearts made of glowing rubies
they'd pillage then refill with emptiness
and echo the walk of the walking dead.
If testicles were made of pearls
every man would soon resemble girls.
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