Burning Angels

17 02 2010

I’m a soldier on crack jihad
I live in my fatigues
sleep in my body armor
and attack before dawn

I’m a criminal in the night
possessed. Meth-head hijack
a flaming NASCAR wreck
don’t cross my lane sucker

I’m a blackmail schizopath
a furnace breathing asbestos goo
take me to court and I won’t show up
I should have been a Scorpio

I’m a lower god than Satan
who nobody knows was a socialist
hell rings with my desire
and the stench of angel wings on fire

I’m a solar system rampant
Immune to criticism in a singular orbit
a mass of ganglia running on sunlight
and gravity and the centrifugal sling

I don’t miss a thing when I’m counting cards
or tallying souls in the seventh ring
the wrestler in me is in love with show biz
I’ll curse god till he takes my soul

I’m only a soldier
as long as I have rations, I march

not like a pedestrian, no
like a mercenary obsessed
waiting for salt and blood

I would kill the emperor if I could
if I could to save the blood of my brothers
husbands and wives and significant others

still I march, even without pay
the scars on my forearms are displayed
my badges of addiction and battle
I straddle the great divide with innocence
and dedication to causes I hardly understand

just a soldier waiting for orders
D Day is a Pall Mall
dying to cross the borders
invade the enemy lines
terror on foot, my mongol horde
rapture on horseback

I’m adored in my armor and uniform
who cares about the paycheck?
I’m just a soldier living to plunder
conquer then surrender
and loot the absolute

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