prayer for saint alexander
too
much radio
small room
saint alexander
chain smoking, chain smoking
thinking about big girls
with thick bodies and perfect curves
saint alexander
and the radio
the radio wearing its halo
the walls turning to cracks
and the paper peeling
thinking about big girls
with thick bodies and perfect curves
delicate curves
red hair and long lashes
delicate mouths
saint alexander
burning through the radio
warring in the room
big girls
perfect bodies
i'm pretty sure adam didn't sing in the garden
didn't dance in the garden
not to himself in the garden
never with himself
not under his breath
not 'til he saw eve.
small room
saint alexander
chain smoking, chain smoking
thinking about big girls
with thick bodies and perfect curves
saint alexander
and the radio
the radio wearing its halo
the walls turning to cracks
and the paper peeling
thinking about big girls
with thick bodies and perfect curves
delicate curves
red hair and long lashes
delicate mouths
saint alexander
burning through the radio
warring in the room
big girls
perfect bodies
i'm pretty sure adam didn't sing in the garden
didn't dance in the garden
not to himself in the garden
never with himself
not under his breath
not 'til he saw eve.
Chester comments: "its me sat in my room which is like a monks cell (except for the stereo) chain smoking, going insane thinking about women, talking to saint alexander who is my chosen saint. he comes in and out of the room/is music"
ReplyDeleteThere are too many “St. Alexanders” to know which one Chester refers to. However, in the context of this poem, I would like to think it is “Sant’ Alessandro di Bergamo," whose decapitation for his faith was deferred for a time because the arm of his executioner became stiff before he could complete the act. Or maybe St. Alexander of Jerusalem, who died in prison after many tortures; once, when wild beasts were brought into the arena in Caesarea to devour him, they licked his feet instead.