| : t u n n e l s : of gods & liberators the tame voice is the living lie in the matted eyes of my colorado morning the punisher of the indwellers lungs have leprosy & a cancer of the mind to fade away -- now or force feed the satyrs the frothy milk of my plagues laughing at the cosmic comedy of interested god & mutinous cherub drowning in the nobleness of space inching thru ozone for inherent hunger sensation slaves daring to be free riding the raging hurricane down the funnel to the forest floor innoculating my desperate dreams copulating consciousness devouring my sins em tee alone inside -- these fragile, fragile walls of skin . . . shut my eyes to heaven --- i must be free tonight |