American Communion
I locked my mind in a plastic jar
May he never be set free
For the conversations I never speak
And the world I wish to see
Piano wire skeleton
Vibrations from within
Breaths anchored to the lung
Neon lights for skin
Dreams postponed at least an hour
Soul lagging past the spine
Slowly stepping down the tower
Slowly digging out the mine
Early morning ritual
Prolong the duration
Prescribed reprieve for the soul
Light blue liberation
Pyrex
The earth gave a gift to me
To turn its body to stone
And give rise to children just to set them free
A jewel from soft damp loam
It’s my passion that commands
I give my soul a throne
Raw potential in my hands
Seeds about to grow
A new creature from far off lands
A dragon made of snow
All it needs is a touch of fire
Display and ready to show
My own hand made empire
I sold my soul on Saturday
An unwritten satire
Hands are on a railway
At least I stand up straight
As my purple turns to gray
I just want to create
Thrall
Deep within the city center
One hundred feet below
In the dank depths of the basement
Lies our meeting hall
It’s my job to light the candles
Half an hour before
We dawn our cloaks and sit at the table
As wax drips on the wall
In walks our grandmaster
He lets the meeting begin
Then we start off with a toast
To all those that may fall
Burt is first with talk of money
Investments stocks and loans
Sandra is next and talks of power
A coup and local elections in Bengal
Gary whines about his funding
Chem trails don’t come cheap
Burt reminds him of our budget
And something about global withdrawal
But I don’t get paid enough to listen
So I tune out and look at the floor
Maybe the reptilians are hiring
Or maybe I should just leave it all
Shepard