Bang bang life for losers of life
fucking hag scenery eating
seedling smiles buried in a long hill
sprouting bodies moving air with their mouths
moving metal with their hands
making it speak for them like a bitch
making their talk smash glass
and wooden doors machine through the ear
that waits at the end of a warped hall
creaking and creaking for the oil of music
a drum that fled melted houses
to be rolled by hands that have
arms to the sky with heart's traditional pulse
keeping the giantism at bay
with extraterrestrial bouquets
of fuming penises.