Saints In Fever Temples

Howls are a' calling
the spear spangled alkies
from their mackerel bible fog,
whilst machine gun mantras
baby tarantulas
and Spanish tanned ciders
sell themselves
as cures for hangovers.

Tango pimps of Sodom
give dancing cramps
to the light heeled holiday angels.
Porn flexed romeos
style themselves on videos
of twelve stone heroes,
frostbitten Venus
woos the DJ's.

Chicago slums
serenade the sulking pop stars
who wait in their binges
while the devil coaxes Barbie for prayer.
Praise sugared mud
for blushing bloods
as crocodiles flood
her Soho milk,
snapping at cold turkeys.

No more dead ends come
to peace out gin wailing hooligans
after the buzz is hit.
New Orleans and its coffee casket jazz
is coming down to earth.
The old man's ebony lady
digs junked crazes
king snake places
and sunglow lunged faces.
Cry bullets
kick the H.

Welcome to the wingding
as morning jaundice spills
from drug induced shrapnel wounds,
this flu is for the taking.
Olive skinned
lushed up and loved,
there it goes
it sees and knows,
the magic
behind the dopebone...

@Steven Francis Poems 2000