he smiled. and depressed the tongue lever
green Maccabees Children rested on a cold night without dawn
she was the last one to crook a finger just off
the Interstate along the hospice trail where
Doppelganger lizards (the turtleneck fevers that they – spastic wildly
as the revolver turns the chamber of darkest blue sunlight) sacrifice
themselves in cheap
brandy rat holes and crawl to sisters basking
with slumbering Ozzy in the medium (the thirst slaked by a happy Ingrid)
or was the dream of vomit and chaffed handjobs?
Incoherence – the thoughts of amazement – the sins
of long-haired blob
Walked. the children sing his songs of doom a capella and
thrust
hallowed Spring ideas of metal health