Nightmarish Undead Band, You Quiet Hourglass

Bathed in incandescent light & a shower of sprinklers, the drum thundered patternly while a mannequin sang centerstage.

Shattering our neck in pendulum-like motion, it accrues within us like hellbent harmony: we can’t breathe until they stop playing.

They tied a noose around our bodies & drew us so we would rock painstakingly slow in front of rusted garden shears.

They fled to the country, leaving in their house, our corpse you must rob with rubber gloves, garbage bags.

He sent out the sirens, banshees in the streets, scraping the tin roofs of the suburbs.

Screams proclaimed long vowel-less names, monotonously.

Fog hanging like an old farm between the trees.

They can fit half a soul between the dark, the other half sinks somewhere over the fields, where dew dots long grass stalks, and cows sleep against posts.