My Vocation

My Vocation I cut my teeth with these silly rat boys Searched in curb cracks for folded fag ends My Vocation Bullied a boy once and had to kill the shame Searched under bushes for some hidden wine dregs All before finding my vocation Christ knows I'll drink these lees in I'll half-choose to secede Christ knows Fasten old face and Put trust into fellow man Christ no I can't believe the things you say Two actions for to start the new truants day Stretch the old legs and take a drop The pleasure's too dense in these dregs To floss the lees out of my speech Christ knows I used to take the cloister walk When it was vague but teaming with ferns The underlife respun and I took a snapshot of it My Vocation Puts me through inverse speech and hour before you awake See I don't need drink or drugs or coffee Or any of these for I have my vocation Christ knows Paint the flag blue for the cardinals A colorblind boy learns how to shoot Christ knows Sneak the dim beacon on the whisper whip Still these lights hit like a cold cold night Christ no My city she's my baby and She said to me "stroke me once again" On some other part of my body Your loving hands remain too long treading lightly in one place Christ knows I take me there I've put in the time This is my own dissipation I find the book of poison And I'm handing up my indulgences for an invocation