The Geranium Hotel Poems

I think I've seen your lips before On an advertisement for some old testament You've the mouth of a lioness Yet you speak the language of a dove Fame and Fortune will come to your door But only after you have been buried It is written on a highway sign In a state where the Summer is peaking I have a funny feeling That you know too much about me And I know what you keep there in your pockets Between your cock and polished rosary You see your ancestors in your reflection The rotten fruit on a golden tree And you come away with great lights in your eyes When you dream of the fires in the hills Can I hold your hand while you shiver? Kiss your fingers while the boats are taken by the tide? I will listen to your fever's poem And travel with you through the perfection of illness I've never thought too much of marriage And you have never spoken highly of love But together, we are naked under one blanket We are the heroes of high-noon, the brightest pa...

You just drink to get drunk to dance And you just dance to have a brief taste of myth You don't shave sometimes to feel criminal And when you do you feel exceptionally last century The music you listen to was written by a man with woolly hair His cock was large and his genius was broad He found he could run fast when the rock fences were falling As you found were decidedly slow But the punches and the kicks felt alright Something to write to Frederico about An ode to pain perhaps, an ode to Sadism And where will the return address be? What land, city, bridge? Are you to dwell in the orchard all your life Pissing against the same trees as the other artists? Sleeping on top of the shadows, trying to slow the light Did you ever hear the myth of the Frenchman and the sailor? The Sailor fucked the Frenchman upon a ship that was carrying peaches From America to the port of Lamoux The more they fucked the more peaches were destroyed Until by the time they were hit b...

It shakes, You can't explain why There is a silver line to everything An aluminium edge You fold up into time Tangled in the sheets of wind The lightness of a city that is lost at sea Did you spread your arse for a sailor While the lamps burnt at either side of the door The pulse quickens As the cymbals chime And the beat falls like scattering china We are the men who wait Tonguing the balls of heros While the gods look down and release the monster hope And the thunder roars The thunder echoes in our golden vases Deadening flowers And hardening cocks The embrace is tight The boats are all taken out by the painted waves of evening whose dream are we in? The silence is on the very end of sanity We need a basic rhythm The basic embrace The glasses roll off shelves And the blood explodes along the panel Hall ways are where we meet The different levels of hell are imploding And I am hard with words on my tongue I am the utensil for language Lost at sea,...