coxcomb & tenenbrous, the mouths of train tunnels yawn like laughing jesters, the toothless skulls of poor yuric, unknown by any other prince. how many tons of coal roll through them in pitted steel containers, the husks of dinosaur era forests, bark & bones that were there when i was here.
when she smoked salvia d., she hallucinated that she was made entirely of shards of glass. i've been saying the same thing forever, through sue's mud & blood & beer. these ribbons out. not the lewis carrol hall of mirrors, not the mordicai burke chambered looking-glass. reflectionless, empty of night-gaunts & vampires. the girl with the glass knives is carrying pieces of me, like i'm a sharp parody of a cure song, primed for anihilation. yours or mine, comrade kalishnakov.