My pieces slip out of the hole in my head

And they float away always just out of grasp

The silence is pulsing; my words are now dead.

The soul leaked outward though my blood was not shed

And seeped through the ground, a melted moaning rasp

My pieces slip out of the hole in my head

Since I had not mine, he was the life I led

Until the spears he spoke brokened the heart’s clasp

The silence is pulsing; my words are now dead.

Crumbling lexicon, babbling gibb’rish instead--

Dizzy fall. His glass eyes were widen and gasp

My pieces slip out of the hole in my head

I run, spilling remnants where, as I (were) tread

Haltingly, I faultingly sputter-stutt-spasp

The silence is pulsing; my words are now dead.

I fall and watch him watch, the glass without dread

Once was the soul-spears-scalp-glass-and-ev’ry-asp--

My pieces slip out of the hole in my head

The silence is pulsing; my words are now dead.



-LP