The
Last Poet
Appetite for Destruction fleeing
from twin speakers
Among emptied bottles in the dark and gloom
The music shakes the fury from my soul
I am the last of the poets
I am beat and melody
I don’t believe in fear
But blood drip drip dripping
Among hushed faces in the dark and gloom
I am the last of the poets
Oh! She lays her body across my knee
So sensual — there in the dark
She needs me — I want her
She hates me — I love her
Among detached stars in the dark and gloom
I am the last of poets
With books stacked high in cluttered heaps
I search for God’s bright face
You see...
I once saw Him in a dream
I am the last of the poets
(The Black Book)