An ice-cold burning mandala
Where neon shadows roam the halls,
Counting punk-rock mantras
On ballistic rosaries.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Wrathful guardian angels
Sink their chainsaw teeth
On the soft and sensuous flesh
Of wet dreams and hidden pleasures.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Drag queen Bodhisattvas
Wink blessings to and fro,
Hiding their deep sorrow
Behind glittery eyelids.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Dangling from a golden pole,
Tara slowly strips her feelings
Carefully dissecting
Your bare soul.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Alone in a dark alley
The junkie prince sits silently,
Shooting uncut reality
By the burnt stump of a Bodhi tree.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Like a high-speed round,
A thousand eons of memories
Blast away thru skull and brain
Leaving bloody shreds of sanity.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Trembling with bad shakes
A delicate glass sutra
Explodes against the pavement
In a rain of bourbon shrapnel.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Bleeding hearts hold hands
And stare into the darkness
Dripping from the rotting corpse
Of miscarried utopia.

No good deed goes unpunished.

Like a badly beaten boxer
On the loosing corner,
A pale child spits blood into the bucket
And stares back into hollow eyes.

No good deed goes unpunished.

“Death is not an exit”
Yells the sign above the splintered door.
Seventeen fresh ghosts
Stare at it with eyeless faces.

No good deed goes unpunished.