circa ‘95

by the jimi hindrance experience

i was gonna git me one of them dogs

what whispers secrets to ya ‘bout the mailman?

then i’ll go on teevee 

just like all my favorite stars

an’ sell me some books

or open me a church

or some such stuff

like that there

indulge

my every passing fancy

with teenagers 

and chemicals

and carving knives

an’ just weirder than june bug

justify

my hypocrisy 

in the name of some kinda

first church of the legal tender 

type of an arrangement

with bodyguards!

too

and maybe some of them followers

with graveyard eyes 

an’ perhaps slave-like obedience

to my every whim

no matter 

how christ-awful 

full of belligerent denial 

of the Trinity

my latest 

vision/prophecy/hallucination

might be

and he said…

who sells them dogs, anyway?