Dust Season Poem by Kevin Patrick

The Word, lurking on the bloody Mountain
sneered, over the cities it chained
then circuitry stars crept and bloomed
until its aureate putrescent reigned
and the reptile intelligence thirst
grew deep into an urban sprawl
with the naked flesh of isolation
they prayed for radioactive rain
in the husky temples of the neon Babylon's
the vultures danced a trance
they made love behind gas masks
to hymns of synthetic discos
and history was overthrowing
by the wolves of entertainment
and no one heard science screaming
when grave diggers wore yellow acrylics
behind red smoke and mirrors
and philosophers stood behind bread lines
convicts gave blood transfusions
without audiences on television
and out of work angels wept, buddha o.d. on meth
and the wheel lost its purpose
progress fell of the track
and the word lingered still... waiting for dust season