our hallelujahs

our hallelujahs reek
of blood-filled stains
smothered in lipstick
and caked in mud
ascending from atop
the sharp churchly spires
forcing open
the aching cunt of silence
pricking through the heavens
bringing forth the saintly blood
gushing and pouring
dripping and steaming
onto our naked gutters
like grotesque roadside kills
left to rot
in front of all our city’s whores