The Latter Days

My family does own some land where the river is wide At night I see my memories dimly dying on the other side I know that I am now all bitterness and tart Anatomy to me is a homesick stomach and a broken heart You rest-stops in the midnight are like friends I've worn to bone I only notice that you're glowing when I'm feeling so ever alone Drunken with the children now too many times to complain Trustful was the mouth I turned into a lustful sopping hole and Now it's nothing but a bathtub drain The Latter-Days are harder than I ever could've known Come back to retrieve me sometime soon If the Latter-Days are ending then I hope I'm ending too And buried someplace where your breath tastes new to me and Always blowing, so my body's bent and bowing Deep into the day's ending in summer The Latter-Days are always panting like a Second-Comer All the fleshy statues of the city-square goodbyes Are flinging smoothe-skin trinities and nakedness Up into my eyes Naked swan-necked girls, your arching backs into the sun The highway ditch's black clouds split the median and Breathing in of all the ribs of every bathing one And in those trash-pit-ponds you bathe and Oh, how you all gleam Mindlessly bright where you're wet in Your eye-lashing, fluid-splashing, rapid-flashing Canal-bleaching dream For me