I bled on a pivotal stretch
Like a clockwork Christ
Bears sore stigmata, bored
And as I threw Job, I drove
Myself to a martyred wretch
To see if I drew pity
Or pretty litanies from the Lord
So the plot sickened
With the coming of days
Ill millennia thickened
With the claret I sprayed
And though they saw red
I left a dirty white stain
A splintered know in the grain
On Eden's marital aid
So glad for the madness
I walked the walls, naked to the moon
In Sodom and Babylon
And through rich who*es and corridors
Of the Vatican, I led a sordid Borgia on
I read the Urilia text
So that mortals wormed
As live bait for the dead
And as I broke hope, I choked
Another pope with manna peel
Dictating to De Sade
In the dark entrails of the Bastille
And as he wrote, I smote
A royal blow to the heads of France
And in the sheen of guillotines
I saw others, fallen, dance
I was an incurable
Necromantic old fool
A phagadaena that crawled
Drooling over the past
A rabid wolf in shawl
A razor's edge to the rule
That the stars overall
Were never destined to last
So glad for the madness
I furnaced dreams, a poet, for of sleep
Turning sermons with the smell
On witchfinder fingers
Where bad memories lingered
Burning, as when Dante was freed to map Hell
I sired schemes and the means
To catch sight of the seams
And the vagaries in between
And midst the lips and the curls
Of this c*nt of a world
In glimpses, I would see
A nymph with eyes for me
Eyes of fire that set all life aflame
Lights that surpa**ed art
In sight, that no intense device of pain
Could prise their secrets from my heart
I knew not her name
Though her kiss was the same
Without a whisper of shame
As either virtue or sin's
And pressed to her curve
I felt my destiny swerve
From damnation reserved
To a permanent grin
So glad for the madness