05/05/2022
"Popes"
Jerk Unicorn
BluniCorp, HiLoFi
improvisational harsh noise rock piece about small town religion
Pope Peter, also known as Simeon or Cephus,
first bishop of Rome and a fine fisherman- not unlike myself
he saw that the unclean animals could be eaten
he saw it in a dream that defied the Sanhedrin
he saw the Lord in unclean heathens
he saw the Lord in unclean heathens
he saw the Lord’s light in unclean heathens
and his accent gave him away as a foreign friend of Jesus!
Duncan is a deacon- third string Pentecostal preacher
never touched a single drink, as he’ll remind you
substitute teaching because the Lord’s design is not to reward this man’s life
so far defined by pious devotion, with very many blessings at all
except for a constant supply of fresh faced insolent children to punish arbitrarily
and even that slight indulgence no longer rings his heart’s once chaotic overtones
like a grand piercing wind chime rusted and clanking without volition
though he has the Lord on his side
plaid shirt, long pants, ugly shoes- dumb f**kin’ all if I remember the rest
Amen, Duncan!
What long shining braids untied that sweep the floor
each pristine strand- apostles’ feet walking filthy never learn
country pride, home cultured, no salt added
a child of God, sister of the Holiness Church
the cowgirl Magdalene of Cornbread High
I hope God lets you in, because you don’t wear a skirt
but you’ve never cut your hair- maybe it’s just enough to work
you’ve dodged the Devil’s telepathy- haven’t seen a lick of television
but the dangers of the modern world now come replete
with temptations you were never prepared for at the Holiness Church in Derby!
Perhaps you have heard of another so-called “Church of God”
where the mad ravings of angels flow unfettered from lungs drowning in Holy Spirit
there I lost myself as a whirling dervish
no, I mean, turned around in your fu***ng circus;
Most Apostolic congregations follow theologic doctrines of Arminianism
so, therefore, do not recognize the primacy of papacy- Peter’s progeny’s pride, patrimony denied who wants it anyway
and what else is denied? taking naked showers after sports
because the boys with the moms with the long hair never took off their shorts
just stood there, standing there, with suds pooling on their waist bands
scared of staring, bare like never, aware of square jawed football kissing Judas captains
St. Luke just write a prescription for the pill that strengthens my conviction
more than one checks if those Pentecostal boys are cut!
She was kissing snakes before she kissed a boy
and she kissed a girl before she kissed a man
and she kissed him with her heart but not often
and she’d kiss their kids and pray and tuck them in
put the dishes up, go out and f**k her friends
her husband loved the rush of cuckolding
he’d pin her bun up while she called him “ma’am”
a real life alpha son of Abraham
he’d let her do it, that was their “thing”
Why are all these fans of DDP kids who don’t watch Vince and Rock
where’s the Bible say which wrestling federation walks with God
arbitrary order hides the perfect; wise ancient prophets eschewed trash t.v.
left out of the crowd, my child- but it’s all worth it
the way we interpret the Word, it’s just us for eternity- everyone else gets roasted
they didn’t get the gift of tongues, no words of knowledge like Paul said
no prophecies, no gifts of healing- no miracles of any sort whatsoever
it’s just us up there in a buncha damn long sleeve shirts and Liberty stonewashed bib overalls
but the kids don’t talk back and the women can sure stretch a dime at the IGA
not that they’ll need to
see those Calvinist wh**es on the city council
Presbitutes fueled by their trust funds and filthy reformations
blue blood forced through the vacuous husks of in**ed ne’er-do-muches
in step with the driving rhythm of dumb animal instincts
honed by generations of pride and gluttony into a well-oiled Golem
pre-programmed since before time itself, as the Calvinists might say
for one thing- and one thing only- to be consumed for eternity in a deep and wide fountain of fire
along with, oh well, just about plumb near every single person ever to live ever
except us!
Peter, oh! Peter! cast your net towards me
fisher of men, I call out in broken Glossolalia!
These motions, this me, puppet strings- I believe in the unseen
redeemed, and be cleansed in mercy for the Creator to play with or place in case
I’m saying, see, when I sing I should probably pray
but my voice is unfit, probably even to speak, so forget crucifix- it’s too regal for me
nail me face down to a dead loblolly- rotting, forgotten in Mississippi
I’ll die thinking about a boat in Galilee
I’ll die dreaming of everyone dancing on seas!
Pope Peter was a fine fisherman- not unlike myself
2 track album