.....

                      Its bones soften, its flesh rots, spoken in revolution
with deeds to live by to this day--its skin falls off and death follows within


                       to the folklore of a body double he called his pineal door
                       in the dead of his first axis in the center of the ring I was powerless,


                       one last glance around and reentering his body back home
                       the girl of his projection of a magic wand--or a sledge hammer


               who and she quite properly held in a vise in my brain his family doctor
                              whereupon young to my toes and back to head, a great roaring oscillation