the maul understood the man          
the dark putrid space inside him        
where empathy was supposed to be  
      
there was death there        
      
dreams of bosch              
saturn devouring his son                  
mother violence                  
like a tide of red ghosts lapping at toes                  
saying more than words ever could                  
                
the maul knew dark things                  
how it could sate an urge for ill will                  
how it could make quick work                  
of a human skull                  
                
and so                  
one day                  
                
it did                  
                
three of them                  
and at random                  
no pattern, just chaos                  
just pure, violent, blood spattering death                  
a gift of gore to the watchful moon                  
the maul knew what to do                  
                
he casually turned himself over to the police after          
before they even knew what he'd done      
what the maul had wrought            
            
there were three of them
  
a finished work
  
a trinity

O Land of warbling Nightingales across
Th'Atlantic pond where golden Daffodils
Dance for the sheepish Clouds that shade the hills
And trees are emerald green with clinging moss,
My Heart is griev'd for thy most grievous Loss
Of Liberty as Tyranny fulfills
His loathsomest Designs and swiftly kills
The Speech that should be free, however gross.
Despair thee not.  The Lord of Love and Might,
Though he doth try thy Patience, He shall yet
Shatter the Teeth of Tyranny and set
The Captives free, the broken Bones aright.
Father will come (have faith, for God is just)
And resurrect the Tongue that tastes the dust.

Beautiful impressions as it seemed
Become a sister in your dreams
But she's just crook who just caught

Mother gave it her all
She wanted everything all
No wonder why I left

Now she sit on her throne
On my brother's backbone
Praying for It's greed

That all familiar evil act
Will stab people at the back
Break all soul, it's time to go

a hawk without feathers,
skin, hollow bones,
its avianness severed by the wickedness it knows,
it sits upon a house,
the house that's always stood,

(by the cave with the painted walls,
after the massacre
     of the neanderthals;
by the agora, where the voting took place,
     in sight of which they signed
     constitutions
     and other contracts in black typeface;
by the workplace;
by the banks;
downtown,
     between the metal-glass towers,
     footpath from it
     to the corridors of power)

out of time, it is: a Wormwood,
where men gather to unaffix themselves from the good.
the hawk has eyes of malice,
it watches as you come to the door,
inside, it smells of money, might and phosphor
us.

bird droppings
from the skies I'd plummet
into the arms
of the open road
of the paved places
of the winding canal
of the idle city sleeping

drowsy in my somberness
quiet in my pain, I labored
spilling my blood with a copper's clamor
the din of supper, scraping rusting fork & spoon
'pon tin plate
to hear ravens' drowning cries
rattling in the tin can of my empty mind
searching for the truths devoured
by many come before
who wound me dearly
who loved me,
dearly
and craved every drop of blood
succored
every morsel of marrow
how they loved me,
my flavor
my scent
craved the texture of my soul
that decadent, succulent chew
the note of my fermented heart
the painsteaking cuisine of my hopes & fears
no monster could dare
devour
as humans do,
as humans do...

as human devour
whom they love...

and wherever you go
finding me,
as aimless trails
of loose change, on sidewalks
on open roads
in parking lots,
in the hot sun or shade
know they wandered there
in drunken stupors
as I fell out of the gullets
of their wanton avarice,
they lost me perpetually
spreading my worth,
as they spread their disease
cloven hooves clopping, clapping, clipping their way
away from the devastation
of the feast of my dying
like banks
emptying in my ruin
of the wake of my demise
their empires, falling
fiat failing
loose change spooling
like my passions,
my yearning for pleasures of flesh
they ***** every woman I ever adored
society,
in the desert of that lustful ******,
disemboweling...
establishments, perishing
grants, drying up
riverbeds, swamp-like
don't forget
how they,
you,
chose the love of money
over me,
as you butchered me,
like choice cattle
no golden calf could ever beat veal
no price could hold sway over the madness of their deal
how demons waited
gap-toothed smiles twinkling
eyes dark, cold, wanting, hungry
accepting every handshake with glorified glee
malice of eternities, met with mirth,
poured over sinful charity,
from those who destroyed the good
despite the evils that would follow

I was the innocence - the sacrifice,

they enjoyed every taste of my youth,
my joy, my spirit, my screams,

they enjoyed every taste of my innocence
despite every harrow,
nestled
in every mouthful,
like broken glass filling
in fillet mignon
******
good
fun...

and here I am
this one's yours
your own pretty penny
with no thoughts to spare
for your pennies could never purchase my thoughts
for my thoughts are worlds of real estate
no longer on the market
closed
like never-never land
a tombstone reads:

"Here lies,
he who never lived,
for living was too high a price,
for the world to bear being free,
due his freedom,
therefore, he died,
that they may remain slaves
to the devil's delights,
evermore..."

and no one was there
to proclaim forgiveness
that they, who ransacked, knew not what they did
for they, who ransacked, did know
and yet persisted
for the sake of their own yields of riches,
***, and a deep-rooted
desperate sin
called,

"greed"

in realness, I don't dig villains, although
there are some ways
villainous jerks are preferred
by me; ones with thE̲Y̲ hands blood-stained
without excuse, like usurpers, deserve
to be, like it was with European nations once, plagued
by a big misfortune, for sure
[the "Black Death" plague pandemic regarded as a big misfortune for Europe]
[to avoid misunderstandings: I don't mean then Europe deserved the Plague]
[the "European nations" part is used only to have a simile]
but, like someone with an RH̲-like mind frame
[Jason Todd as Red Hood from the "DC" universe]
I wouldn't mind 'em mU̲rked, like some works
of mine made as if by someO̲ne cray; guess I ain't
really the type who becomes fazed by dark ways
like someone walking through nocturnal suburbs (dark ways)
wouldn't mind a torturer of a guiltless pers. to get forced
to intense tortures that hurt
so much he'd admit he's a horrible ****
unless that **** meets the fourth of those horsemen before
the admission of his ******* occurs
[the fourth horseman of the Apocalypse is death]
don't confuse it fO̲r someone's door
taken off by a spetsnaz force in the course
of a storm if my mind seems unhinged according to yours
like a perp with no other means of ge[ɪ]tting rI̲d of
a corpse than to undertake a burial o[ʌ]f
it, ones watching rainbows should be digging deeper
["undertaker"; by "watching rainbows", I mean something like]
["being distracted by something nice"]
on how much this world A̲I̲n't like fairytale stuff
it's corruption that is a base of evil (corruption)
sim. to the astounding peninsula compound linked
to that psychopathic ex-KGB̲ heel (base of evil)
["KGB heel" is supposed to be read/pronounced with the stress on "B"]
so the wicked aren't really bothered by morals
and stuff; then why should injustice-perpetrating people
with power be treated like sO̲meone who's normal? (***** 'em)
those means of dealing with issues that make us civil
[journalism, massive peaceful protests]
[the independent court system, fair & transparent elections, etc.]
shouldn't be disregarded, of cO̲U̲rse, al—
[shouldn't be disregarded in normal circumstances, but under autocracy]
[or when organized crime groups are as powerful as the state]
[civil means aren't effective to change the status quo]
—though, in my view, like I've cracked a sA̲febox brimful
with paper cu[ʌ]rrency rO̲lls, jewe[—]ls
["dough in my view"]
it's V-/Red-Hood-like a[ɛ]ntiheroes
who're required to fight O̲nes from the circle
of so-called depraved supremos
[powerful members of the underworld & agents of authoritarian regimes]
for if you think a state as corrupted & aw[ɔ]ful
as the North Korean one can be changed in legal
ways, it's pro[ɑ]b'ly white **̲rse y'all
are on, like a knight with his armor shining
sadly, such men o[ɑ]ftentI̲mes end
up a la Navalny (sadly)
rephrasing what I've tried to convey bY̲ the writing
if there's a large-scale fire po[ɑ]pping
I'd advise to deal with it by air water-bo[ɑ]mbing

$ummer Apple tree$:
     iPhone$ ripen in the $un—
          firstfruit$ of knowledge.

Bad news come for evil yet rules
And more evil yet cloaked until
In triumph in all the world
In the news from its knees rises

The Devil, ceases its pretence
To pray; And all barely sheep-cloaked
evil bared, and with whip commands
As I knelt now bow before me

All eyes in heavens and all earth
Will see that you in your free will
In your calculated choices
Choose Evil and reject the King

And they the exiles in their homes
The aliens from Eden on Earth
Aggrieved beyond bearable grief
Shall see judgements and wondrous grace