by Wanda Waterman
threadbare song nihilism black leather on fleshless legs your mouth like winter water bang your fist against a frail thigh and say you feel guilt smell of carrion your corpse is still so lovely after the convent the heroin Mick Jagger the baby you feel guilt a resurrection of the darker side of 1964 no more purple velvet no yardley grins no Gene Pitney no more bangs and yeah yeah yeah all gone up in a smoking paisley nightmare just drugs and death and rock dreams and in my own rock dreams I was always you Marianne you somehow beat the odds well maybe this time Marianne
The Mindful Bard 