burning down the days, let me count the ways
calling up the waste, so what the fuck
the breath of the beast is haze and smog, security cameras for eyes and all
winding rows of teeth growing sharper still eating the flesh of hours
cash in the cockle shells
bite the copper coin and run
this fiberglass wound is tearing
im stealing back
a ragged gash worn smooth swollen shut and padlock held you can't go back the way you came
If I could make them run I'd run them
an affidavit sworn in dental floss and chicken bone, lashed together as through a storm