I. Will tell

I. Will tell
The world
From a rusty
Mountaintop
I will make a florid
Gutter
I will puke
A dozen words
Or so
I will pass dirty
And unshowered
And filthy
With feeling
In the late
Desert
Still breeze
I will sing your name
And defying Satan
I will plummet
For only a
Filthy
Generation
Demands proof.
I extinguish
Doubt
I speak
The truth of my
Unvarnished truth:
Embrace me.