the hour is so very surely at hand

our cowardly LOVE!
(so loveless!)

now death

(who knew always who would really win)

walks boldly up to your mother
and takes her hand

you watch impassively

and wander to the alley and lie down

in the filth and excrement
and try to weep
(but you cant)

the hour surely has no minutes
the minutes have no seconds

breath has no life
and
naked  bodies no allure

you are only totally poor
only totally
a slave

the hour splits and reveals
skeletons with no substance

we are mere specimens of man

we are cowardly lovers

merely loveless