"Slums of Berlin"

I flipped the slums of Berlin
for a small countryside church
Metropolis for
Georg John's birthplace
Nibelungen
for Lana del Rey
& other names & slogans for love
that's not sawdust
grind

oh, and Eno
for
radio

I laughed in that church - cause the
priest didn't know
my tune, and now I have to learn
his

best trips
are
accidents - ask the famous
a-bomb
London's next
first flight sandpit paper

philosophy? redundant
in the great dawn
of sane

with joy
I flipped U-bahns
for a convertible
hot stripped streets for country roads
pale neons for
railroads
speed for adrenaline drive
taxi drivers
for a chauffeur star
driving me round
like a king

I don't regret
the slums of
Berlin

they showed me where I belong
not
in the courtesy
of
disasters - fake friendship
of tongues
speaking only of
failure

my star showed me music
as I expected it to
be
& fuck guitars
in the right place, safe
on a woman's lap
breathing the petrol

writing songs for later

to show the children
some tricks, & prove that rock stars were dead
long before
Elvis was born

to save new generations
from monstrosities
of art
& the parody of
ego