Tuesday, January 11, 2005

In the end, the devil played
Though you broke it’s fingers
It won’t leave the strings to silence
No matter how mangled the melodies may be

Since neither one of us is asleep
Let’s give ourselves another chamber
Before unbuttoning the metal jackets

As I’m spitting out splintered plastic
And gnarled thread
I see you’ve already bitten them off

It’s an awful sound,
Like dry knee caps
Being grinded into wetness

In the end, the devil played
An upright casket with a twisted neck
Rope where the nails would be
Threats where the eulogy would be.

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