52

pounds of feathers
and plumes of bricks
establish the scent of your voice.
heard the movements today
of cleaning the rust
a dark high-noon red's rejoice
there's a choral reef somewhere
far below Poseidon's rain
the damned cry out from their rack's
to fall on deaf ears.
'Father Maximilien,
forgive me my ways
brutality the horse you rode in
corrupts thy soul
like my own'
Terror will rain
in blades of silver
the dance of the dead

51

ages pass
mortality becomes a muzzle
a sludge surrounds dreams
we yearn to produce
with our faith caught in a noose
we are pawns
within our own daily grind
until we are gone
a life led by crime
but our toes are enveloped in grime
our trough full of husk and rind
belly down and bottom up
fucked with knowledge of history
forever to repeat water and wine from a golden cup
but we're entombed with desire
refined

50

moved from dorm life, to a mattress on the floor.
doing what you're told, saying hail marys to a crooked cross.
forget the fly on the wall, im the elephant behind bars.

finding a closet to shove inquiries in, a dead bolt and padlock away.
telling mommy and daddy you'll join the work force soon,
their checks cut to the dealer down the road

every night it's you and a leather belt,
every sunrise it's less feelings felt.

every plungy you take through tissues,
empties whats left of daddys funds.

you won't stop till youre in an elephant graveyard
this is allston rat city
bostons necropolis.