ah crying guitar weeping violin melancholy
viola and cello
Macabre
setting the tone
percolating his inherent violence
widening the bare offset that struggled to belay heel his
derangement and keep his irrationale at bay
they cast odorous smoke and
irritating ash in his face smarting his
eyes insulting his nostrils
provoking him
the hardwood he clutched grew more
dense it smelled of raw blood and senselessness
he committed a bludgeoning
freeing
happily dystopian
happily disconnected
he left the
truncheon beside the cooling body and before leaving he
casually admired the
traces splashes and flung drippings
he admired the
pooling blood brittle teeth bone and brainbits
had he been utterly devoid of
pity he would have taken their hands
which was all there was left for
the next of kin for an ID
though recently tats helped
tell their tale
during quiet nights
he imagined if he could
shake the music if he could bring
himself to pierce his eardrums
maybe the senselessness might expire
but he couldnt be sure
his brain was spinning record
sides separate of him
Obviously the separateness vied
for his attention
he could hear a machine work his
cloth
- stitching him together hear the clatter of a zipper -
drawing him together - or
coming undone
its Undone or Done was baked into
his cake
from the inside he couldnt use
a toothpick to test it
and every murder performed ah informed
his knowing
informed him that if he had
been found out
earlier and killed - Take No Prisoners - his
marbling or perfection
would never have been
some Wolves grew old
and danced alone in the dark under an ochre moon or wildly in the eviserating yellow
glazed sunlight
Enormously happy they were
Never Discovered
1754, Moanday,
13 1. 14
