.....

Humankind at the fount afraid to drink
   from the fire of cleanliness
    each humble nerve made banquet-sized
       hall hollow as a gun tube
         where the thousand eyes follow the nothingness
           that is the one's search for a way to murder
                through his numb vortex mute nylon generations tick
        dream-knife kaleidoscope, alien numbers
                  those homely enough to actually experience love