anarchist wet dream

a thousand crystal empires crumbling
at the feet of modern Caesars
and go home to their wives and thrones
of shattering power

screams in the night from underground bedrooms
private like heart surgery

is it my fault they cannot see blindness
and are pretentious and genius as i am
degenerate and chaste as babes
curable and terminal as disease of the brain

why why why why why
oh catastrophic damage

scrambling desperately in half light to love and fuck and sing and
be vulgar in public and sit up straight
lie down with the Germans and the past which
is all mounds of dust - empires

speeding uncontrollably through an age
a universe - a job - a grave - a mouth that loved me

maybe i'll never be known but the
irony will kill me

i love my idols my idols my false idols and the
true died young and bitter and full of
promise and heroin, dishes i will never try

save what you can the holocaust never ended
it begins with us.