We shall bring more life into life
with seepage and strength trained by killing
with knives and bonnets and bouquets more
with fucking gladly in the dwellings of the cursed where we live
with internal gods and external goddesses gladly
takeovers of the meek will reek of the same memory
but the blade whistle as if a sail turn
murderer to maker, taker of life to minister of pregnancy
parthenogenesis in the warm dot on the invisible forehead,
sharing cereal with endlessness of tabled people.