Department of Youth

Rip my jeans for rock ‘n’ roll
scream loud and spit bullets
subsonic tuneage vibrates my rib cage
my fists pierce the air
all day and all of the night
I break on through
transvestites ask for platform boots
and claw, scratch and kiss
with a wagging tongue
I’m torn from my seat
my ears bleeding and screaming
my larynx scarred and hoarse
back in the peace of my dark
in my room
eyes closed tightly, I sweat and shiver
temples throb with rythmic ecstasy
convulsing soul, right to the corps
the Fool paints the picture
my eyes strain to see
a plain, white jacket instead
my lonely heart is set at ease
with a little help from Mr. Kite
a splendid time is guaranteed for all
as the steam-organ swirls
pass the hash-pipe, Billy
and bring out the Doors’ tapes

(from “Part Three: Seduced By Fantasy…”)

An homage to rock ‘n’ roll. You can play ‘spot the references’.


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