Below the patterns
Of depravity
Too soon
Beats devoid of known timing
Vicious stakes of splintered thoughts
Smash out the lights
Obstruct windows, lock doors
Pause any whisper
But I can sense something aware in the
Dark,
Sick,
Deep with me
When the wall of inert noise roars
The sky will be in broken pieces
Strewn burning all across the ground
Bolted down vision
Auto points of view
Too late
The encoding is stable
You forget to feel badly
And then at all
Like a cold leather heart
Pumping runny filth
Getting colder, scratching along the
Dark,
Sick,
Deep in me
Serrated edges dragging across steel
The acoustics of large concrete rooms
Loops of bounced echoes and scratches
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