Rollin back streets stabbing at the Earth's core
the question whispers underneath old blue chip wrappers
like a dust twist serenade low soft cloak n dagger
in deep nights wrestling with directions
bent cigarette stickin from my mouth like straw
over the rain glazed road in lamplit spotlight
the philosophers gather to battle with tautological grenades
do they know?
are they aware?
I ask the dirty golden mongrel between bin bags
hiding from huge growling taxis n pindrop rain
I ask the cemetery walls if any light has passed
these weary corners and if the answer lies within
I ask the Raven in his towering rarity sat on guard
in a cherry blossom tree but all he can do is bark his portent,
silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
I ask the traffic lights to beam like sunspot anger
n to bright out all the nooks for my peace
all I get is blankness
all I see are frustrated veterans
huntsmen of this tired old quest
who is Kipper Zeus?
I thought one crimson country dusk that I'd seen him
between cornfields at the end of a golden grey highway
but it was a lightening strike to a battered Buick
an old man with a battered beard who smelled of smoke n piss
once told me that they had shared a beer on the corner
of fifty-six and Wabasha in the days when the bong tree grew
but who can ever trust someone
who drank with Valhalla's attorney?
So, still, who is Kipper Zeus?
Some say he charges down Death's retreat on a fine
Catalonian steed with black holes for eyes n fire for hoofs
Some say he sits up till dawn so that he may feed the morning
nightingale that perches upon his windowsill in Hell's Kitchen
Some say he lives in a magic castle
Some say the Everglades hide his wicker hovel
ankle deep in green brown wetness
Some say he black others he white
Some say he blonde
Some just say goodnight
My quest has taken me from tiny etchings four feet
from the floor on the Great Wall
thru the caustic wind of the Alps
to lonely bars in Nyorluns
where the House of the Rising Sun has a penthouse reserved in his name
My quest has taken years off my life
but I know Kipper Zeus will pay my bills
Who is Kipper Zeus?
I believe in Kipper Zeus as much as any man can believe in what he does
And I know that when I fall in love it will be with a girl
on crutches who smiled at me from a coffee house window
and I know that when I look into my children's eyes
it will be with a stolen vehemence
but it will be nonetheless insincere for the theft
and I know the girl in the coffee house will walk thru parks in a red jacket
and I know that on my deathbed I will be afraid
but I will be brave ' for there is little else to be
I will be afraid for my loved ones whom I lost
afraid for the world that I can no longer protect
and I know the girl in the coffee house will pray for my soul
for she is kind and she believes in a God more powerful than Kipper Zeus
she believes in love and truth and reality and creation and pots and pans
and long walks and long kisses and broad smiles that petrify my nerves
Who is Kipper Zeus?
If I could love like Kipper Zeus my soul would float without me
If I could love like Kipper Zeus my heart would bound around me
If I could love like Kipper Zeus my truth would dazzle before me
If I could love like Kipper Zeus her smile would now surround me
Who is Kipper Zeus?
One day I will die but not before I'm tired.

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