Tale From the Lore

I have seen so much of life how can I Give meaning to the moving parts The ass long dead on the playfield breathing still Until some boy accurate with a stone Hit the gut, as from the rectum spilled A whole family of little pigs I have dogs stuck in heat, and the hitch Commanding the brute's location at her will It was a marriage made of desire He could not leave her and she would not retire That old adage fell apart For the dog could desert his sweetheart I have seen human necessity too The great songstress eating what she left in the loo And on the walls was smeared The sum of all she beared And every place the same disgrace The stench upon her comatose face But mark this Mark this skeptic of the supernatural kind Mark the stories messing up his mind Stories they tell at quiet evenings Of apparitions and rolling calves, the three legged kind Mark this without misgivings The preach coming to it in the dark of early morning For with sweating hand upon the door He heard in the dark before his eyes A sight invisible to his fear There was a crop, crop, crop, on the lawn And then clop, clop, clop with chains moving on And I had no stone to count three While throwing only two behind me No salt for dry of mouth All disbelief is vanished when sense shout If you cannot comprehend by me The rolling calf is in the vicinity Lord, did you feel the slow leak down my knees The coming closer of the darkening trees O silly man child Turn the lights on and behold The donkey from your neighbor's fold Taking your yard for his lost wild Rattling his chain against his black coat.