A pendulum swinging against
A tin drum. Menacing walls
Smother the plea. Monastic
Vultures have silenced your
Hum. Your voice, stuffed
Foie gras tea. Yew tree poison
Smeared on your lips, a graveyard
Picnic alone. Lay down your
Checkered flesh with sticks, the
Gardener’s eating lunch at home.
