The blindness, like bitter bees
stinging endless mounds of flesh
empowered me.
The lethal dosage of Morphine
that spurred on comas & crypts,
to come out of hiding to hiss.
The clash of cutlery in hollow buildings
as the ceiling falls in torrents, like tornados
the arenas arched collapses like corpses.
... but the weddings still on.





9 old applause
