By Lawrence Miles

Ode To Lola Langusta

The high intelligence
Never meant to create
An earth fire goddess such as you

Strapped for ecstacy
In a town of losers and the dead

Surrounded by the unfaithful and unwilling
Those who think small and from a distance
Hands tied behind their back

But the little boys understand
Take them to the river
Liberate them
God wills it

Steal the money and the hearts of
The stupid impotent men
Leave them in their beer and vomit
Chins and tounges on the floor

Everybody goes mad in the end
And you wind up in the desert
With hands and feet bound
The essence of Eve in the garden

I am your serpent with the apple

-- LAWRENCE MILES