intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies

that had knocked the pins down

as their shoes gripped the dirt floor

in the silhouette of dying

dancing on corpses' ashes



yeah, they had plans for him

they has spun the last of the pimps

corduroy, satin nailed jewelry lips

while the guillotine just laughed again

dancing on the corpses' ashes



paramedics fell into the wound

like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant

an anesthetic penance beneath

the hail of contraband



and all the pulses were subverted

and they made sure the obituaries

showed pictures of smoke stacks



a vivid dissection that mocked

the strut of vivisection

semi-automatic colonies

and a silencing that still walks the streets



was a stretcher made of

cobblestone curfews

the federales performed

their custodial customs quite well



callous heels

numbed in travel

endless maps made

by their scalpels



on my way

nails broke and fell

into the

wishing well