the wrong apple
things are looking bad
for the planet
for the people
for the future
but maybe all we need is each other
and a rat trap old jeep
to ferry us into the desert
where the air hangs hot and still
with the weight of isolation and decay
and the endless sands burn
with the fires of dead civilizations
we’ll strip naked
and we’ll crawl back to what’s left of the garden
and ask the snake
where in the hell did we get it wrong?
did we screw up the translation?
did we eat the wrong apple?
or did we just let god bully us
out of the garden
because we couldn’t see through
his phony bluster?
and if we can’t find the snake
or the snake refuses to talk
we’ll fuck our brains out
in the shade of an iron wood tree
Horror Sleaze Trash 