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  1. Pope Albacore
    Like a siphon-infused death,
    The jazz beats on in my head
    Succulent and surreal,
    I have forgotten why I came here

    The bones of dancing children,
    The bones of dancing madmen,
    Father likes it that way,
    The way we melt into him

    With the big-wigs and soup,
    The fodder of politicians,
    Sex and death,
    Ergot and talismans

    Oh how the fuzz takes me back,
    Back to time of measure and rivers,
    The Mississippi calls my name,
    Lets play in the mud

    Circling and swooning,
    Eating the hearts of fresh road kill,
    We will meet again,
    We will meet again

    -Pope Albacore


  1. Ilsa
    reminds me of the imagery created in 'sodom south georgia' by iron and wine...i like it.
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