Petal Gospel

what would it take to hop a train from the backyard and disappear night after day into the modern boxcar king millennial sold out for a buck a bottle and a kiss on the mouth devouring scenery with wine soaked minds, true planet eaters, true angels sweating bullets in high desert skies, true religions asking nothing tithed but cactus flowers at man-height left to prickle your eyes with the promise of petal gospels. true angels in the sun eyes closed angel deathwish, holy water on the streets. two wheels on the ground sixty speed in the wind, electric temples on the side roads buzzing angel lights til we all come home rubbing bright into lines on our faces, dirt in our pockets and dusty angel minds. dreaming of longer roads, dreaming that two planets collide like a cosmic ouroboros like planets eating time.