Christ, but he needs policemen;

Each tree its own leaf,

Each stick to its own limb,

Mystics own extinct species, jesus polices and needs policing.

'So

Come ye hither and lay thy head

On

This bosom of My confectionary couch's hem

And

Tell Me, cleanse thy heart before Me;

Now is your hour;
This is the hour of your passion.'

('Jesus, King,
So

Give me the ruler-stick psychology to boil off his

Arbitrary.')

'Fair play, fair play' . . .

Who were the forthright vultures

Gorging

First on God's remains?

Of hazy steel our bile-soaked souls were made.


-Rick