Parties and Prayers

I spent midnight mass at the foot of a DJ’s pulpit.
A sermon so indulgent,
with hands out stretched
I recite the prophets text
Straight from the liner notes.
Track ten verse two.
Scripture so true
You can cross-stitch it on a pillow.

The congregation of the Underground
United by vices, heavenly voices muddled by
Ice cubes clinking in an
empty glass.

I’ve subscribed to the nightlife’s
religion of decadence.
A dogma obscured yet enhanced
by strobe lights
fist fights
fishnet tights
and dark moonless nights.

My Child,
“Drink two Bloody Mary’s and your sins shall be absolved.”
Your hangover resolved.
The earth can still revolve
Around you.

A holy trinity of booty, booze and break beats.
A crutch for the other six days of the week.

Parties and prayers
Preachers and Players
Lovers and Haters
Yes men and nay-sayers
Non-repentant in our sweat drenched idolatry.

-MROSE (2009)

PET PEEVES IN PROSE: PART I

Mapquest:

Aptly named, this online “service”

doth exist with one sole purpose

To confound, confuse and often condemn

Me to one way streets, dark alleys, dead ends.

A quest indeed, I’ve embarked upon

Twenty-one miles never seemed so long.

When mapping my route I chose the shortest journey.

But 10 minutes in and things look Other-Worldly.

From Winchells, Mc Donalds and a Marix Tex Mex,

Past Bowsers Castle, Hogwarts and a T-Rex.

What street have I turned on? It appears pretty gritty.

Is it me or does that Ralphs look like Goblin City?

Have I made the ‘slight right’ at the directions insistence?

This map makes no mention of Mordor in the distance.

A sharp left at Narnia and I’ve hit a dead end.

I’ll probably be late for that lunch with my friend.

This map is a hoax, I think I’m it’s pawn.

Nothing can save me, not even Aslan.

I’ve run over something. A brick with a flower?

There goes my windshield. Thanks, fire power.

Salvation may lay in the upcoming off ramp.

Unfortunately its also where the Orcs like to camp.

Deciphering these clues is a chore more or less.

And I’m still not quite sure how I saved the princess.

I’d assumed those red lights were the brakes from a Lexus

Upon closer inspection they seem the eyes of a Skeksis.

It’s dark and it’s cold. Blast this cars stupid heater!

I hope it’s just broken and not the breath of a death-eater.

The accompanying map should show me the route.

I wish it were zoomed in, instead of completely zoomed out.

The only advice from this map I can pin

Is the B to my A lay east of the ocean.

Culver City is where I had once hoped to land

The Southern Oracle is where I fear I now stand.

16 minutes claimed the map. It should not take more!

But I took the freeway, when I should’ve taken Falcor.

(oopsies! My young-adult fantasy novels are showing.)