Sunday, 5 October 2014

Late Roman Phase, contemplating the unescapable conflict
between carnality and the expectation of ecstatic religious revelation.


It ain’t easy, girls,
Working at a lupinar,
Selling your tushie
For a bent dinar…

And talking
About bent!
I could tell
You some stories!

Just the other day
Guy comes in,
Wants to bless me.
Bless me, I tell you!

So I says to him:
"Looky here!
My here job
Is to deal
With your prick,
So if you are sick
You go to a physician
If you a goddess freak,
You go to Magna Mater
I ain’t here to deal
With no religion, Peter.
So up with that pecker !"

So he says to me,
He says, "you just
Don’t understand.
I’m here to save
Your soul!"

"My WHAT?"
Says I,
"Why", he stuttered,
"Your soul!"

"What the fuck’s
A bloody SOUL?"
(I was getting miffed)

So he muttered
Some shit
About the Holy Spirit
Coming down?
And I says to him,
I says,
"All I knows about
Is pricks
Coming UP!
So you pays
Your sestertius
Or you get
The Hades out!"

So he goes
All pie-eyed
And mutters
Some stuff,
And the truth
Of the matter is
I ain’t had a spot
Of real business

The last one
Was a legionnaire?
Looks at me,
Starts to cry,
Says he sees Heaven
In my eyes.

So now they
All come visit,
Peer into my eyes
And all lies about
And cries
About their sins?

All fine and good;
Gives my back
A bit of a rest and all,
And as long as they
Keep leaving
Their gold...

They all want


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