Dinner Party

You always walk the difference i spanned,
Between the spate of your reason
And the matter at hand.
In our grand company today,
(at our Olympic nesting ground),
Lit only by the dying light of day

(I’ve been dancin' romancin'
I’ve been wholeheartedly casting, the actors I’ve been batting away....)

Between the Kray's and the Oh I say's,
The first course, the last born,
Fewer or more, before in the foreground
Took his place on our table. O

Pale and gold,
And gold is…
(Whoever gold would choose to be),
I emulate gold
Came on the tails of his coat
For reasons known only to he.

She said: "He sparkles, (yes, the bastard, He)
Could charm you into either bed or surgery)
Come see the master's operation:
(As I was - gentle piece of meat)
See the oxygen casts it spell?
If the eyes roll back and all is well then...
A'deen, dva, tri,
one bolt, to three bolts of dull electricity...

And out for the count she
Is, out for the count she is...
(A picture to reminisce)

("Hold the head ready! Hold it still,
'Scuse me sir would you mind to hand me my drill?')
We are a civilized here, (have been for years)
Toothpicks and hammers -
Indeed mother taught manners 
(The parlour trick is the ice pick,
And so is the scar on your heart if the head slips)
Yes, manners, she'd says, 'manner's lass' -
When the better man would tip his hat,

This is me bulimic dream
Pretends that she saw the suicide breathe
Of course, in our grand company today
Are the Kray’s and the Oh I say’s
(Can you tell the difference?
Will you break the bread or bear false witness?)
Hold your piece; speak your peace to our assembly of listeners -

Our losers; our winners.
The old sun, on his knees,
In his mind the gun refugee.
Me, mouth to the new moon
Spoke, despite, 
(Going where you would never cast your light),
And God forgives
The god who -
Spat into the skull of the old moon"

Now our pleasures are careworn,
Let us kill all their first born!”

The pines are torn by these dread winds that blow
That strikes down those bodies that bleed
Out in the snow, and take it to pieces,
The jigsaw, the brain - then stitch me together
With the fine thread of the rain.
On eye to the needle, the other - the fire
That turns as I burn
That throws the meat at the choir.
Oh forgive Him,
I forgive Him,
I shrive you of all sins
I retract the blunt edge of his razors,
The needles and pins, and you! In the cradle
Of Judas, who sleeps, who
Throws his gun at poor Mary who
Grasps it and weeps.

The free man, in treason
Who lost each one of his chains, said:
"Slave-driver now you are at my feet enslaved
And better yet I now speak when no sky blocks my mouth
When the sun yields to torment and each small fire went out
The leprosy of minds/ and mine was ungrateful/
Avec you! For the duel, epee against saber...

This death that dulls you,
The suicide of youth.