*chapter 1.the bridge to night*
prince lies like rain swallowed
whispers on party animal sunday today,
he says, the world likes nothing or
it brings no more joy
truth, he says, is painless if you
understand it

*chapter 2.the vacancies in darkness*
prince in light, stands naked, and the
smell of night
which smells of impending dawn
waits patiently by the wall
and the curses which rise through his
porous skin
darkness still has never been so
empty within, and shoulders
with us are slight in breezy
tattoo parlor stenches torn and wretched
but still it smells, such a smell, like
the night on that he fell asleep

*chapter 3.the children of sulphur*
wake or stay
but stay behind these three walls
we are turning into people,
or into the fruits of your sexuality
and as we push corelike substance
through crippled crap
on party favour prostitute friday
we emerg' from the sewers and
when we have wings we can fly

*chapter 4.the greenery of your substance*
through thorns and burning angels, prince
barks and dust
likes his famished body and flesh twists
and the worst of his dreaded complications rise
in wildlife certain death the
tanlines of february oh crush these
undying waxed cancellations! as
fright is born cumbered in nights
so crystallized with this happy burial
songwriting
prince stops and in his hand lies
four naked symbols as trusting of the
body and as abstract as the erasing of
completedness and the wellwishes
of pleasure

*chapter 5.the alarming vocabulary of dreams*
like these hours passed,
such are
the things that we wonder answered
but the force that can bury the
light comes to flickering halts
in embrace of two
spirits working
prince digs deep in persian carpet
info' to discover the depths
of his protruding organ but finds
only filth which
he wishes away

*chapter 6.your last meal was garbage*
as tears dry softly on
these skin textures while our
boils are cleaner and in our
minds we are cleaner so
the walls twist and suddenly
inside and the outside have merged and
the glass and four splinters of light
crushes or launches too deep through
all our busy
darkness and truth that erases
the emptiness

*chapter 7.when we have feet we can walk*
or we will not reach you, it is written
or someone has quoted as such and the
lies that you've preached to the choir
seems deliberate in their offers, but
blind and
the furious mess you have laid in
our paths with the
wishes you've under your shoe and it's crushed
by its blushing and flushed credibility but for
three, yes three hours still, the world keeps boiling
and the winter of calm breaks its ice
with your fractured bald head

*chapter 8.to sever an alien body*
so once now your body detached, can you
float and
lie in air like no furnished building
still in flight you can rotate
and you can flip
as your head is withdrawn from your flesh,
and the blossom of thought counts and
the breezy indifference of morning,
as you turn white when your blood gushes
out

*chapter 9.the final collapse of reason and the world*
prince lies with dustcovered cobweb inside, he
is light in the tunnel, and wishes himself to be
real once again
but it's nothing to fear once you've seen it,
he speaks silent or he whispers in dark voice evil
so the body released, and the blossom of his head
severed ugly and blood gushing, he breaks through
the smells and the touch of sulphur and oxygen and
when he breathes he can't feel his lungs
expanding
when the buildings have torn down and
the yellow plastic refusal ceremony throws bricks
to erase the empty, prince sees light and as
again he is born
all over