to kill a man and drink his blood from the skull bowl
to search for the soul in between barren mountains
and to eat the world away in pursuit of phantoms
limbs that hold together syndromes, complexions
and fictions.
the argument is over doGs as usual
and the deeper waters are horrifically murderous, call it
business. call it justice. Celebrate
erratic on the steps and
howling with drunkenness
flagging hidden ammunitions
perpetuate your messing around
onto the names of children
spit the saliva of your fellow man
onto the green grass of your own lawn
and call it
enemy
separate
evil.
