Home Quotations Photo Gallery Art Gallery Poetry Links Product About Contact SLEEP TALK [By Jason Quiggle] In my sleepy cocoon the bandits come and steal my Love i wake to find the ghetto in flames the local witches in Ritualistic fury, they arm me with teeth and madness. I cram into a van with these holy sluts who smell of aloes and cinnamon- we listen to magnetic tapes of crowds cheering PUBLIC SUICIDES we reach into the desert in our blunt and rusty needle of a vehicle. IN the dunes near the shore, MY GUARDIAN CABAL can go no fUrther trapped like snakes before a sleeping cowpoke's rope. gums bleeding and heart breaking from the insidious WITCH PLAgUE in my veins torn i find the bandit's camp.. my Love on a spit turning, arms flailing like ragged flags in a fiery wind, symbols of the countries of our hearts- most of her was dead before i left the ghetto. her God strikes me and i am beastial break ING into their chests looking for A PROMISED honeycomb of vengeance and I DO NOT FIND IT- i sate myself on their women and cattle leaving them bemoaning the surf salty and unforgiving as is my heart bewitched and forlorn “yes, you will remember me” i WHISPER AS THE TIDE ROLLS IN a shroud “YES....YOU WILLLL..REMEMBER ME” THE OCEAN IS SALTY my tears dissolve into it soothing not Horus. - Jason Quiggle, 2005 * * * Home Quotations Photo Gallery Art Gallery Poetry Links Product About Contact © SpiritCaller.net, 2005