.....

Spent gelatin of partly false desires, make speech eruct
the literature of need, the intermixed body


when you die in the universe
and not even a single light goes out


pray to your dung-wife ear
open a fecal cabaret
 in mirrored scissors
she wails in a tall room


my life is under her fingers
I love her clean head, her lack
of wavering, before she finds
a place to waver


the empire that deposited its sadness in my blood
is leaving, leaving
by the door between my ribs and the door over
my excess of forehead
leaving for nowhere


we will never abandon this world
it will shrug us around
our particles will simply be escorted
And