an old man in my bones, praying for a plague..
eye sockets as deep as shot gun barrels, i am
down the throats of my ancestors, while
sidebands speak through the suspended faces in the trees..
the destruction insect controller watches us when we sleep..
a tangled web of 15,000 cameras..
steals painted bullets and pixilated pills and
taps echo byproducts of vanishing memory..
a free atom burn of fiber optic violin spine..
a figure eight tapeworm is lit like an unwinding fuse..
shimmering street snake crawls across the ceiling
from below the holy whores and ambulance wolves
computer generated flames..
the speed of night the lines tessellate with a violet surrender..
as this city swallows the light with its canceling kiss..
limbs are cannons dropping about me..
can smell the moths you think are wind up angels,
ashes lifting from the great fuckwound..
watch you modulate your mechanisms loose..
mad robot monkeys hungry for a suicide pact..
the page hums with a sub-quark swell..
folding in upon itself..
mud in the cameras eyes..
apocalypse will occur during rush hour..