Read my lips.
Men are swans that wheel and die and who have
shed themselves two apiece.
Women are faceless masks worn dry by the cut of inhumanity.
Children are promises that lovers make to break
and make whole and break again.
Blood is a touch of the other side wanting.
Fire is borne to ashes haunted by the tears of the desperate and the lost.
Fear is a black room without windows full of silent ghosts.
Trains are ferryboats to hell.
Underground spaces are the wild eyes of the laughing devil.
Death heralds the suicide pact of heathen gods and blasphemous religious.
Sex is a promiscuous woman with red nails and a bloated white body.
Science is a vivisectional man with a beating heart and gasping eyes.
Power is torture and dehumanity and the screams of dead men buried alive.
Memory will be the burden of a world come to more than this.
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