Your Stupid Heart
Hey friend, tell me
what’s left
of your
stupid heart.
I want to know
what music
is yet within you,
what secret joy
untrodden,
what scrap of beauty
you’ve kept hidden
from the thieves.
Have you harnessed
the horror of the average day
with some new
form of laughter,
a graceful movement
of the hand?
Have you learned
to sing like fire?
Tell me as we drink this wine
and cast tomorrow
and all their dumb
and empty faces
into oblivion.
Horror Sleaze Trash 