The Psychic's Sermon

I have peered into the plugholes of countless bathtubs,
 and seen into the sunken docks of submarines.
I have searched in spy holes, which bend the room into my lap,
and washed my eye back out until it was clean.
I have talked with devils, struck deals upon the pavements,
and smiled with relish at my inner appetite.
I have prowled down dirty roads,
where the camera cannot go.
Those sleazy sidewalks,
where silence sees the human show.

I have placed my pleasure on the altar,
where radiant sunlight, in streaks of gold, shivered through the window.
I have encased and kissed the leisure of the night,
and licked the empty cups of a loving life
I re-traced the ancient symbols, threw these sandcastles together,
and stomped to rubble those tombstones of the rabble,
where they had buried the bonfire of their ecstasy.
I have polished and perfected my invented meaning,
and danced enraptured by the holy toy,
of a creative life and boundless joy.
Have asked the driver of the midnight bus,
if he might not take into the sky, with the fever of his lust?

I have coursed down beaten tracks,
where the money and the sleep did lack,
and all we had was bliss.
I moulded my clay. I settled my mud,
I was the silent space in children’s form,
and saw with starburst gaze, the weather it could raise.
I cut all ties, all nooses,
the spider web that we are fighting,
as programs reciting.

My thoughts gave birth to lightning.
I saw the fire of my eyes swim inside the looking glass,
as my love began to laugh.
I fell into another door,
where the sun does meet the floor.
I was thirsty for eternity,
returning on the stream of Evermore.