JESUS WAS A CARPENTER AND I AM MADE OF WOOD

An artist of murder medium.      
       
I am just a pretty boy.      
       
Or so it's been said.

"Boy you're     
       
pretty fucked up in the head. "     
       
Orgasmic oceans swallow me,
 
then push me upon these shores.           
       
I pray for holy Sunday mornings.      
       
Angelic hands ignored.    
      
       
Trying to peel        
       
the sick      
       
away...      
     
       
Father oh maker,      
       
what's next of this sadness?      
       
Dreamer oh lover,      
       
please hold me with arthritic arms.      
       
Beautiful,merciful puppeteer      
       
I gladly lay down my strings at your feet.      
       
As long as you allow me to dance      
       
this symphony of insanity.      
       
Crafting a being      
       
of meaning or irrelevance      
       
I accept my fragile form.      
       
As does kindling for fire      
       
structure the burn.