Hiss
My barrel is scraped
your hissing, choked-up scream
dissonates as sharp fork
tines on spent china
all my ventricles are speared
left danglingfrom a metal tree
for cruel breezes
to examine clinically
whispering to the world
their expertise
wheezing sound judgements
which drop like jailers’ keys
on clanging ground.
FRIENDS
TAGBOARD
CREDITS