From: Trane@yabbs
To: all@yabbs
Subject: another christ poem
Date: Sun Mar 27 22:20:34 1994

Tell me tell me fisherman
What you have to offer me
Is it fruit of infrared or planets only I can see?
By swallowing the flesh of God
Will I see the face of Hate
Or will I hear sweet sentences crushing me beneath their weight?

So now he's falling down
So now he's crying out
So now he sees just what the revolution's all about
So now he sees his mom
So now he sees his dad
So now he sees the hammer swing...it hurts so fucking bad
So now he hears the chords
The feedback in his head
So now he hangs from a two by four
The carpenter is dead.

Tell me tell me fisherman
What you have to offer me
Is it life or is it death or is it unreality?
By swallowing the blood of God
Will I see the face of hate
Or will I feel the emptiness of my everlasting wait? 

This is a song I wrote after reading a book by Terrence McKenna...
he talks about psilocybin mushrooms being a sort of psychedelic
communion...and I wrote about that concept being reconciled with
my Christian upbringing and the Communion I knew from childhood.

Trane