MAENAD ANGEL POETICS EXTRACT
I’m an angel no one
Wants the help of
I’m the angel of the truth
nobody wants to hear
Nobody listens to my story
Of spiritual outlawry
Every time I tell it
I’m taken to a place of safety
Where my soul is ripped in sections
Stripped of my keys, I cannot sing like an angel
Stripped of my keys, I don’t have a home
Stripped of my keys, I am in a cell
They call me the bag lady
But I need the bags to carry my wings
The beautiful tyranny of my own inconsequence
The womb where I came from
Smoked a pack a day
Cried lonely in a bedsit
My father has finally forgiven
Me for my birth
We’re not gods or super humans
We are people in our own cells
And viscera
In a bag of skin
With a brainwashed brain
Being brainwashed
By other washed brains
I have the talent of turning
People dysfunctional in a minute
Soul death while U wait
Why not go mad, eh?
currently out of print