from the gutters of other places!
call it arkansas' book of the dead!
there are those who seize hearts,
and those, hidden in the reeds,
in the moss of browned hearts!
wretched,
transformed into crocodiles
they live immersed in terror
hearts heavier than feathers!
the scales drop
and you eat tremendous shit
there are those who walk backwards
and exist in eclipses,
come whimpering into the room,
like wet cardboard
cleaved up the world
into thick pieces
awfully foggy
this here morning
losing my meals
all over those solemn stones
good heavens!
thank god!
i've got this
spell for repelling beetles:
"take thee away, crooked lips!
you have swallowed a mouse,
and chewed the bones
of a putrid cat"
sing my weeny song and caper over the dead birds
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