Flies

I WAS BIRTHED TO THE GRAVE

LIKE A COILED UP KNOT

CRYING AND GASPING FOR MAMA

THAT’S AS FAR AS I GOT

I SAW CHRIST ON THE CEILING

AND I WRIGGLED ON THE FLOOR

MY SKULL FULL WITH MAGGOTS

FLESH NAILED TO THE DOOR

I PAINT MY SKIN WITH ASHES

A MORBID ETCH OF NOTHING

THERES AN ANCHOR IN THE SINK

I GO DOWN PALE, DISGUSTING

WHITE WEEDS AND WOOD

FROM THE BLACK BLOOD WILLOW

A SKELETON IN LINEN CLOTH

THE FOG STANDS ON TIPTOES

PLACE YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR

AND CHEW BONES TILL U FADE

DEAD BLACK FLIES STUCK TO TEETH

FEVER THICK ON THE RAZOR BLADE

BEFORE WINTER COMES I'LL DIE

IN A ROOM FULL OF REMEDIES

AND I'LL SING THE LAST WORDS OF A SONG

FROM A SCRAPBBOK OF MELODIES