"So I have this re-occurring dream that God's drunk on The Mississippi street I'm from. He's facedown with his boots on. Still smiling but his suit's gone behind a broke down Piggly Wiggly in the slums.
& He was thumbing Hemingway before the spirits broke his faith that day he decided he was done. All angel faced with irony he lifted himself up by his sleeves and solemnly he sung.
"Oh I need you when my heaven's gone."
Still spinning from the death of God I flipped my television on. Its pale blue beams the only light I know & you were sitting next to me: the only truth I've ever seen that doesn't somehow make me feel alone.
That's when I knew I was in that dream. It's cartoon shapes engulfing me in easy and omnipresent lies. We watched the t.v. burst into flames, and all our dreaming did the same. Then through the smoke I swore I heard you say,
"Oh I need you when my heaven's gone."
So now I lay me down to sleep, and I pray your love my soul to keep, but all I hear is darkness creeping in & It's Nietzsche in his padded room. Beethoven's hands in silent gloom, and the universe collapsing with a grin. What bare and bawling sense are we? The crucifixion of our glee, that death itself is writing every hymn." While we sing,
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