Forgetting the Song

Seal the cellar with pus. Infected limbs tugging on the needles. The thread. Which sews the frowns onto empty faces. Pieces of pieces of the puzzle. Kings sneak up behind their pawns. And do what they please. The world stomps. A lumbering Goliath. Taking all. Then irate. When there's is nothing left to steal.

Turn the clock on its side. counting backward until the battery is dead. Time does wait. It's always waiting for life to start. Turn up her dress and blame the pussy for being there. Yawning and helpless. Without something inside. Every hole is hungry. For something to fill it.

Chase the puppets beneath her flesh. knotted strings imitating the dance. Revel in the thunder between her legs. An empty box pretending the music.