rottenart

Prayer for 1952


Oily white shirts
cover flaccid pink flesh,
deep in the woods
where disease likes to fuck.

Our father,
who art in heaven,

Crackle of cow-skin
gets them aroused,
a scythe in the night
to break open skin.

shit upon your name,

It was dry and pleasurable
that primitive rape,
with screams full of blood
and clotted with pus.

Thy kingdom cums,
and calls it done,

As the sun hides away
the sweaty mob festers,
vomiting songs
their grandfathers taught them.

on earth
or in Alabama.

How do they smile
with nicotine teeth,
happy to chew
on black rotten flesh?

Give us this nigger
and his glistening head,

Strung from a wire
the angel was scarred,
marred and abused
for weekly retreats.

Make us erect,
as we erect those
who struggle against us.

In rusty brown trucks,
they kick up the mud
that covers the tracks
of frost-bitten stumps.

Yours is the bastard
and bondage forever,
and ever,
and ever,

Amen.