Slammed up against the gelatin of the crowd
leaking anima
agony of the bent head
suffering solitude
in a row of prepared rivers.

Slain doorsmen gleaming
in a slurry film
on long marble
entrance room floors
before me
clutching a bell,
a dog's tail,
a whimper.

Moved into the sovereign area
of not giving a fuck.

Flinging power knee pads
bitch splittails on my porcelain finger
giving their intestinal tracts up to sperm.

And the sacred avenue lit
behind it all,
merrily winking and being
parked, arms of science
by music, tabletop
made bare for performance layers
the tape run out
in a crop scythed by
torn dresses.