Awakening, Wakening Words

Before I go,
I want to feed a Thai monarch butterfly to a colossal, colorless, clawed gecko,
to explore the sensation of vital scarring,
hear the birds call one more triumphal march for me,
savor the squishy savagery of a nubile pagan cunt,
bathe my soul a bit in these strange, melancholy noises soaring from Cat Chelby's piano,
to spear a man, just some man, my blood and eyes dislike,
to tear leaves aplenty from the dying money tree,
to purify myself of the desire to please Jack and Jill,
to sprint like a beat hominid beast amid one more green hill,
and also to wake up a few rolling robotic corpses to the free and living wild call...
to the serenely savage, civil light that will fuel their souls the moment they open their eyes.