In the Morning

Disguised in my mouth as a swampland nailed to my teeth like a rising sun you come out in the middle of fish-scales you bleed into gourds wrapped with red ants you syncopate the air with lungs like screams from yazoo like X-rated tongues and nickel-plated fingers of a raw ghost man and somewhere stripped like a whirlwind stripped for the shrine room you sing to me through the side face of a black rooster In the morning  in the morning  in the morning all over my door like a rooster in the morning  in the morning  in the morning And studded in my kidneys like perforated hiccups inflamed in my ribs like three hoops of thunder through a screw a star-bent-bolt of quivering colons you breathe into veiled rays and scented ice holes you fire the space like a flare of embalmed pigeons and palpitate with the worms and venom and wailing flanks and somewhere inside this fever inside this patinaed pubic and camouflaged slit stooped forward on fangs in rear of your face you shake to me in the full crown of a black rooster In the morning  in the morning  in the morning Masquerading in my horn like a river eclipsed to infantries of dentures  of diving spears you enter broken mirrors through fragmented pipe spit you pull into a shadow ring of magic jelly you wear the sacrificial blood of nightfall you lift the ceiling with my tropical slush dance you slide and tremble with the reputation of an earthquake and when i kick through walls to shine like silver when i shine like brass through crust in a compound when i shine  shine  shine you wail to me in the drum call of a black rooster In the morning  in the morning  in the morning gonna kill me a rooster in the morning early in the morning way down in the morning before the sun passes by in the morning  in the morning  in the morning In the morning when the deep sea goes through a dog's bite and you spit on the tip of your long knife In the morning in the morning when peroxide falls on a bed of broken glass and the sun rises like a polyester ball of menses in the morning gonna firedance in the petro in the morning turn loose the blues in the funky jungle in the morning I said when you see the morning coming like a two-headed twister let it blow  let it blow in the morning  in the morning all swollen up like an ocean in the morning early in the morning before the cream dries in the bushes in the morning when you hear the rooster cry cry rooster cry in the morning  in the morning I said disguised in my mouth like a swampland nailed to my teeth like a rising sun you come out in the middle of fish-scales you bleed into gourds wrapped with red ants you syncopate the air with lungs like screams from yazoo like X-rated tongues and nickel-plated fingers of a raw ghost man and somewhere stripped like a whirlwind stripped for the shrine room you sing to me through the side face of a black rooster In the morning  in the morning  in the morning