I dropped off her confession in a handmade paper envelope
after editing it for scope and incriminating content I hope

she didn't have much to say about the delay
about the killing fields she had overseen
about the starving families whose famine
she had the honor of starting with disease

modern cargo cults and dolphin rape caves
make the news these days and my pulpit's dry
making more opportunity for great difficulty
whatever she wants she gets so long as I stay high

I lapped up her recession with wringing rags cut from curtains
after tearing down the diffusion for blinding by reflections of suns

all the raw materials converge there at high volumes
noble gases, hydraulic vaults, rogue elements of Hades
Osiris a spiritual labyrinth of hedged bets and solemn
charges of forgotten felonies from dangerous physiques

the angels are around me pressed against the wall
nauseous and oblique in the art of rock's hard place
where fascination ends the teenage feeling of good
you didn't need to worry about the excess of belonging

you didn't need to misdirect the directionless with death drive
the dirge song of missed callings without adjustment to thrive

a stained slut on a carapace couch of slotted spoons resolving
a cane of wickerwork candlewax coating a candlestick chandelier
a falling tank of solvent and winning girls of old easy jobs laving
a seminal flux of rewind fluid an acid bath in cock-a-doodle cheer