i am a fuggin lovely bastard
i have you mid-quake
fuggin give me your whole
fuggin cram a whole lotta your love into me
i am fuggin broken down inside this church
i am a dead monk laughing
vow of fuggin silence be damned
cuss into the fuggin butt of my worship
the petals of sacrament have been plucked
i remember you laughing
you are the number of times i have laughed
if i had a cell i would grow moss inside it
inside each of my holy cells a new fuggin moss explodes
what's great is you
what's never is complete
constantly i dream i am complete
of you
-- kristoff hungerbutt, 1823
trans. daniel bailey, 2012
