Salt-grain-taken greetings

from the land of curmudgeons,

powwow in these

craters of overblown canticles.

Dragon-puff proofed spirits

with the matchsticks of nigh-nights...

till we add eyes to the lambs of

Johnny from Patmos.

We can disturb the peace, till it

spews war from windows--gag

reflexes of great purges.

Catching venom samples in our

plastic cups, for posterity's telltale tipples.

Etching paralysis through deadlocked

saints and sinners.