Beneath the pulse of our lives
there bleeds a new laughter
A spider dune, seeds of cruel moons
--
Crowds who gather in sickening night
Mother teasing her gentleman’s cry
Hooray for the new talk
Ruined by its crooked walk
--
A tortured house spun from green silk
While children are nurtured ****** milk
A wretched web not yet built
A celebrated filth

© Matthew Goff