The rain fell in buckets that night
hair slicked to weary faces
and gazes which condemned the stars for shining
the gaping maw of it’s almost over now
is rapidly approaching
and we chew the cud of *****
until we ***** all over ourselves
arms ending at the wrist in ****** stumps
which spurt arterial confetti
so that the stray cats which wail at the moon
can stay fed for another day or two
how dare the sun burn so bright
in the face of such darkness
snub out the smiling masses
and cover them in soot and crude oil
the man behind the clock is laughing
between a pair of ******* aching with regret
but maybe after just one more run at it
we can pull ourselves free of salvation