that shuts on blood
sky's epiphany that scours
the carcass-stricken ground for meaning
bricks on fire with desirous paint
wings flapping that were never here.
The crushed canisters of blinding drinks
clouds ripped by a punch-red sun
the girders of x-rayed skyscrapers
glinting through my rotten soul
the slow rape of the morning
that rolls my wheels.
Flies with bulbs of multifaceted diamonds
fish with monied scales
and spurs of syringes breathing
the luxuries of time
that build a reef.
Sand grains in the drowning salt
the light-cracked acres of deep black water
breathless revelation of
death's hive to come.
Throats gushing against floors
that are some double's ceiling
lilacs pouring from the doors
of flooded domes.
I'm a crate of discs
in a dust-ridden ring of restaurants
that holds no bleeding thing
in a paw that sings.
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