Thursday, December 15, 2005
1:21 PM
HissMy barrel is scraped your hissing, choked-up scream dissonates as sharp fork tines on spent china all my ventricles are spearedleft dangling from a metal treefor cruel breezes to examine clinicallywhispering to the world their expertisewheezing sound judgementswhich drop like jailers keyson clanging ground.