Hostage Stamps - At The Drive-In

My eyes scroll to the back of my head

The Lord’s dare taken in vain

Keepsake battalions, phantom couplets

A new tactile cremation attested

Opaque spurs, contemplative mayhem keeps us

Branded on the wrist do not embalm

A paper nest truancy of wasps

Wrap me up in Mylar film

The anachronism enacts the indigenous

Prolonged exposure to combustible nativism

Thirty days spent in the hole

Raise yourself a nithing pole

Inoculated at the liquor store

Drunk on the piss of sycamore embers

The hospice waltz of corpus flowers

Leaves pinko fumes from turret guns

Sawing at the base of pylon towers

Banking on the drought, banking on the drought

Opaque spurs, I’ve defeated every crypt

In the potter’s field of Machuca

Calling from the blossoming dust

Slid down the bank, choking on sherm

A new tactile cremation attested

To opaque spurs, contemplative mayhem keeps us together

Thirty days spent in the hole

Raise yourself a nithing pole

Inoculated at the liquor store

Drunk on the piss of sycamore embers

Thirty days spent in the hole

Raise yourself a nithing pole

Inoculated at the liquor store

Drunk on the piss of sycamore embers

Raise your nithing poles

Raise your nithing poles

Put your hurt in a safe, throw it in wet cement

Never speak of this to a living soul

Heed the mercury blots of this Rorschach advice

No good will come of your insect rebellion

Thirty days spent in the hole

Raise yourself a nithing pole

Inoculated at the liquor store

Drunk on the piss of semaphore embers

Raise your nithing poles

Raise your nithing poles

Raise your nithing poles

Raise your nithing poles