soon, this will be a museum.

by Captain Self-Destruct

pray for this circle of strangers
for they know not what they do
comfort their new reptilian skin
clear out the fog they are in
barricade the doors behind you
quarantined deadly ecstasy
keep the truth from the children
make up stories to fill their heads with

sometimes we all need a lighthouse
we can’t see the wreckage of those before us
and those rocks…
what teeth…
someone please climb the stairs.

(July 21, 2007)

contact: Pascual Delgado:
pascual (dot) delgado (at) accesss (dot) net

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