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The
Killing Machine
The
Our Father
Daddy
Long-Legs
Moves ToThe City
Desperation
Show
the
burning jar
nosferatu
american
gothic
the
presents of loss
ourselves
forsaken
our
killing machine
salamander
pond
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ourselves forsaken
we alone the dead
in coffins nailed shut cloistered catacombs--our coffins fetid failing
in pools of our words. we ache of them--our words. our rusted nails
for panic we ourselves drive them into skin--wood deep. we lock
us in--keep us driven lunatic of opulent hunger
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