I bled on a pivotal stretch
Like a clockwork Christ
Bears sore stigmata, boredAnd as I threw Job, I drove
Myself to a martyred wretch
To see if I drew pity
Or pretty litanies from the LordSo the plot sickened
With the coming of days
Ill millennia thickened
With the claret I sprayedAnd though they saw red
I left a dirty white stain
A splintered know in the grain
On Eden's marital aidSo glad for the madnessI walked the walls, naked to the moon
In Sodom and Babylon
And through rich whores and corridors
Of the Vatican, I led a sordid Borgia onI read the Urilia text
So that mortals wormed
As live bait for the deadAnd as I broke hope, I choked
Another pope with manna peel
Dictating to De Sade
In the dark entrails of the BastilleAnd as he wrote, I smote
A royal blow to the heads of France
And in the sheen of guillotines
I saw others, fallen, danceI was an incurable
Necromantic old fool
A phagadaena that crawled
Drooling over the pastA rabid wolf in shawl
A razor's edge to the rule
That the stars overall
Were never destined to lastSo glad for the madnessI furnaced dreams, a poet, for of sleep
Turning sermons with the smell
On witchfinder fingers
Where bad memories lingered
Burning, as when Dante was freed to map HellI sired schemes and the means
To catch sight of the seams
And the vagaries in betweenAnd midst the lips and the curls
Of this cunt of a world
In glimpses, I would see
A nymph with eyes for meEyes of fire that set all life aflame
Lights that surpassed art
In sight, that no intense device of pain
Could prise their secrets from my heartI knew not her name
Though her kiss was the same
Without a whisper of shame
As either virtue or sin'sAnd pressed to her curve
I felt my destiny swerve
From damnation reserved
To a permanent grinSo glad for the madness