Go On
And when all hell broke this and that
and teeth began to chatter the ice storm in the heart
was thawing out at missile speeds through pupils
that not inhalation constricts or exhalation dilates
a global warming in gumless mouths
The stench of corpses
in whose direction all lips moved
for irises fixed on decomposition
In times like these
something has to be said in a language
good for burial
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