La Tormenta

It’s going to storm.

There’ll be cars on cars

And people on top of people.

Sweat, fire, heat,

The night is burning.

I see flames in your eyes,

I see humidity stirring insanity

And violence,

Give me the gun!

Frenzied dancing to sirens

Rising in a fever.

The stoners on the grass, watch out!

These centaurs will tramp on you

With hooves of lead.

Quicksand, quicksand all around

But you’re too weak to crawl from the grip of your grave.

Drown in mud, it fills your mouth-

You choke. Oh, lovely night.

Violins strike up a requiem

As wicked fairies float down from the stars!

Seduce the boys, steal their souls,

Then comfort the girls with soft kisses

And tattoo their breasts with heptagrams.

The echo of laughter in The Garden.

Form a line for the slow march to hell,

To pay the Queen’s tithe.

A pixie with a machine gun means

That no one here gets out alive.

2005-2010