PART ONE

If You're Going To Fuck Me, Then At Least Have The Decency To Fuck Me On The Operating Table With The Cartographical Errors And The Silent Mosquitoes

Black helicopters sanctify our lungs as we descend into sleeping fields of radio angels.

Our Mothers Are Setting The Sun On Fire With Miller High Life And Virginia Slims.

The Stars Drown In Milky Saliva While A Fire Hydrant Bleeds From The Ears Of A Crippled Dog.

Please Locate Your Hiroshimas In My Mouth Before Their Eggs Hatch.


PART TWO

If I Can No Longer Suckle Black Juju With Jesus In The Modified Serpent Tractor Of Unspeakable Horrors Then Clearly The Terrorists Have Already Won

Since The Dawn Of Time Mankind Has Yearned To Destroy The Sun.

A Toothless Man Devours Silence So As To Pacify His Limbless Daughter.

We Have At Last Become Locked Without Motorcar In The Dark Chocolate Jesus Room.

This Is Final Proof That The First And Last Breath Are Black As Blood And That The Sun Is A White Dream Vulture