Antichrist And barcodes
In the air that we breathe
With the little black box
Eye-high in the sky
In the water
That trickles
In our mouths

In the codes
That flicker our lives
On and off
The staccato night
Starts to swallow
And shiver
And to freeze

The fish belly up
The unborn served up
Obeying the planets
No incense is strong enough
To make this life complete
Alpha and omega
The Great in the Small
The butterflies flutter by
The foxes stop running

The moon
As sharp as a sickle
And as bright as a pin
Breathed its heavy sick breath
As we fitfully slept
And heavily dreamed

To awake
Back into endings
And quietly wait
For the trains to stop chugging
And the clocks to implode

His name
Is under our skin
And so by the hair
Of my chinny-chin-chin
By hook or by crook
Our necks are in the noose