Pierrot

Beneath a wavering artificial moon
Columbine leers with her lips the tune of nudity
Pretty boy, her breasts like cloven hoofs
Forget the cigarette butts of her words
Reverting to the last voracity
What moon has ever crossed this eroded sky?
From the stench of bad crossed music
Columbine's once hair is lewd as sexing serpents
Come and I will touch the sun that was never innocence
Clutching only my nerves and this rusted, dusty rail
But what moon has ever crossed this eroded sky?
But by the banks of creeks the early summer sun
Is warm and innocent with doves
That is this one reality
And my nerves are dust and the dust in her mouth is vile
Only the moon – aching sad moon
Grace as pierrot, sings out of tune to the rails and the dove
But what moon has ever crossed this eroded sky?
But by the banks of creeks the early summer sun
Is warm and innocent with doves
That is this one reality