The Latter Days

My family does own some land where the river is wide
 At night I see my memories dimly dying on the other side
 I know that I am now all bitterness and tart
 Anatomy to me is a homesick stomach and a broken heart
 You rest-stops in the midnight are like friends I've worn to bone
 I only notice that you're glowing when I'm feeling so ever alone
 Drunken with the children now too many times to complain
 Trustful was the mouth I turned into a lustful sopping hole and
 Now it's nothing but a bathtub drain
 The Latter-Days are harder than I ever could've known
 Come back to retrieve me sometime soon
 If the Latter-Days are ending then I hope I'm ending too
 And buried someplace where your breath tastes new to me and
 Always blowing, so my body's bent and bowing
 Deep into the day's ending in summer
 The Latter-Days are always panting like a
 Second-Comer
 All the fleshy statues of the city-square goodbyes
 Are flinging smoothe-skin trinities and nakedness
 Up into my eyes
 Naked swan-necked girls, your arching backs into the sun
 The highway ditch's black clouds split the median and
 Breathing in of all the ribs of every bathing one
 And in those trash-pit-ponds you bathe and
 Oh, how you all gleam
 Mindlessly bright where you're wet in
 Your eye-lashing, fluid-splashing, rapid-flashing
 Canal-bleaching dream
 For me