the wishes of the masses
are a parade down a grey
launch site for cold war grandfathers
they are in your blood
the peace of September pales you

the next engineering disaster or
godsend has your signature smothered
in legal documents
the bomb is a breath as
children ruin the world

watch them line up in a crocodiles mouth
watch them birth the savior
you sleep while sound is pulled from the
quiet of your back

the cue I have abandoned
proves hard balance and
will **** every blank note

That is why we fight and
forget ****** vanishing
in sight like Virgins

I went out of my mind And
boiled My time into a Pop
Song and trashed it
Should I have not?

I can't write anything
and it's fitting since
who can read anyway
Why should they?

I thought it was OK
to burn Saturday
I was right
Weep

I scratch the surface
with perfect confidence
wasting everything
famously

You want me to write this
Spelling mornings and fastings
from the window of your past

you work perfect farce like
your cards light in my hand singing
a jingle to slavery

you light a bourbon course
across artillery and *****
sworn to war

One backward leaf of
paper to assault my shade of
fey staircase

ink inside a lock of
hare in a black backward box
key for my clock

smoke without a whip's
narrow ghost backward of
a coal haunt

clever stairway it's own
footprint for hare escapes
my backward watch

Wolves egg blood
turned over horses
blood burned butter

When the brink vanishes
the furnace swallows its
Mothers pastoral tongue
which is heard echoing
through 1000 years of
Dead mouths

Beauty flings its severed head
cavalier in fashion
over the overdressed mob
who are steel nippled
penised and toothed
maggots of war

Through my scratched window
about the black scaffold made
from my own insomnia
No ocean can rinse the blood
from that fabric

One particle has betrayed your wit
you are speeding into a single cell

Right below your memory is hollow
your past implodes despite your will