every person is a screaming horror
facing forward, in a line:
hands folded, eyes aghast,
neat parted hairs
by a comb toothed fine.
on streets paved of blues and grays,
and pinball lights against defilade,
blood polluted and mind ablaze:
steady death is life of age.
every one is a howling terror
with eyes full bloom from gleaming face
and teeth of raging white and red
with bulging neck-tied veins that spread
below the chins of merry men
who laugh and dance and drink and sing
every person is a screaming horror
whored in rags of filth and tears
with hands lopped off and mind in scatter
a puffed up bag of dread or fear
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