fevered with blisters, ages and ages of empty crowns, dug up from the trash,
the junk in alleyways and forgotten rooms inside forgotten buildings,
the scalps of our enemies' friends, to line the walls,
the skin of conflict, the taste of spite and severed pincers,
electricsick zombies choked with amphetamines,
resolving with acid, the floorbent, the scarred foreheads
stain the whitewalls, accelerate on the moment-arm of doom,
the transmission with the static, the voice echoed
and drained to the ears of earth
/the silver fucked and spent, fortuned and treasured
before the madness and after the spills of crowded cries & those eyes have always left me dry
for those who'd been monarched without the
chances for refusal, i would bring my tears to
flood that kingdom, and imagine the breadth
of disaster, and i would ford you across
with this momentum, furnaced with so much
that was gold once, so long ago