Table of Contents


Climb To Bishop

Once upon a goldenless time, 

Beyond the bridge to nowhere

Nestled in the old hills

Pointing north to somewhere

An entire family of hippies grew.

From this growth

There produced fourteen children

From three different wives.

Times were good

When they refused to be horrible

And events of a family nature

Filled the nature of this family's lives.

One son in particular

Was particularly smart

A lone philosopher

Who used big words,

Collected from the start

All the way to the line 

Where he hesitated to stop

To solve the world's riddles

To answers kept captive by

A straight-jacket of mono-syllables

Minds used to encapsulate them

Placing obstacles to further thought.

It was one average afternoon, 

That a stumbling block popped in,

An eager visitor in this kid's head,

One unique question

Never before therein.

It was a car ride moment, 

In a twinkling of an eye, 

They all turned to one another 

Each girl to every guy. 

"Daddy, what is God?"

"Is God way up there?"

"Is God really just some Guy?"

It was that car ride moment 

When the bright idea emerged 

To go full commando Mormon-style

Up Divinity's staircase, 

Climbing, tirelessly, Eternity's mile.

With struggling ascent 

To the agreed-upon plan,

Smoking cigs and running with Devil,

Was to be no more with this clan.


Care Free

Watch out piggies,

Watch out rats,

Here comes 

Purring mechanical cat.

Emerald green and gold Ducati;

Mean, 

This two-wheeled Maserati.

Jam the knife 

Into ignition;

Me and Pearl on sinful mission.

Turn and gun it fast, 

The throttle;

Saddle bags rattle

JD bottles.

My helmet, 

Emblazoned lightning bolt;

Hers, 

A flaming stallion colt.

Hot pipes
Pump the well-spent fuel;

My neck gets hot breath,

Far from cool,

From  set of biker lips,

Arousing me like cat-tail whips.

We Burn across all state lines,

Blurring segmented yellow lines

Into one glowing road ribbon.

We call this our easy livin'.


Cheap Date

Dead-eyed and neglectful

Florence Nightingfail;

She was food bought with a stamp

Not grown from the ground;

Made one too many visits

To the spiked lemonade stand;

Craziest thing with wings 

I've ever met

But being tied to a tree

I can't see the forest

And they're all higher 

Than the clouds

And just as well-hidden.

My frolic with folly;

An exhibition made 

By simply lacking class

Turned my ass 

Into a true-believing lapdog;

Earning me my Ph.D. 

In celestial bootlicking;

Looking back

And counting the cost,

She was still good in bed.


Church Triumphant

Above our heads are written

Calamities and revolutions

In the stars:

Narrative of an incredible audacity,

The continually renascent fury

Of our enemies.

Mighty souls feel irresolute

In their counsels,

As powerful strain

Wells up from the hearts of us,

The apostles.

In a country 

Prey to convulsions

And torn by discord,

A prize is fought over

By unsatiated ambition

And vulgar non-entities.

The spirit of darkness

Throws up its seductions

And wiles in abundance,

But this writhing is vain energy,

Being the docile slave

Of its selfishness 

And greed.

For she will cast off her chains

And the mask of her ignominy.

Following the outrages of Golgotha,

She hears resounding around her,

The blessing and hosannas

Of her Deliverance.