Shimmering Lucifers

Four square monks drive a Coupe de Ville Through the vale, over the hill To get to where the savings are, They square their shoulders and point the car They bang their heads when the radio blares That song about the lady who bought the stairs And the dandy in back swirls down the chrome handle To cast weird sun on his pilgrim sandal Where tokens once slurried to a buttercup Hajj What now? O shimmering mercantile Alcatraz! Mobius ministries fringe the haze Of toothbrush choirs in a Yangtze glaze Foaming in pollens of this lobotomized valley Ever since Yankee Candle broke up Bee’s Alley Where skanking confederates Did trail natty satins, debt Free, and Sanity herself (Now a scent, top-shelf) Administered to gutter pirate queens Mini homecomings woven on the cosmic screen And whispered in a turtle’s ear, Kid monk you dream, it was the beer You vowed to brew Just like the thread will lose its screw Just like the brain will shed its wrinkles, Diverting shipwreck’s periwinkles To be reborn in a lonely place, Truth’s best conducted by an unclaimed face