We Versus Yours

you are the oblation nation
we juggle cheese
and jam econo
we do one-handed push-ups on the moon
and pose downward-dog
on your face
we are inspired now, god damn it
your sluice-box of eyeliner
leather pants and sarcasm
the debris and detritus
which wafts when you speak
we light it on fire with ideas
with vengeful farce
with angelic anger
it will be given back one day and that will suck for you
that will be some heavy shit, man
a palimpsest woven from wrung hands
twitchy hands pumped
full of benthos
your neolithic pageantry is so small
way up here
from our canoe in the sky
we sing thunderclouds and ring
excellent fucking sonic gongs
that reverberate your skull to pieces
glittering shards soaked in
a phosphorescent sheen
of oops.