piety of mice

switch off the meat light

and come over here

ignore your blossoming flesh

grindingly dodecaphonic

I only want to hear

this symphony in chunks

when I get in your car

(bubbles and polyhedra

burping my ears)

we're not talking about

queer fine art here

just the ordinary sheen

of ordinary blood

the instant it's spilt

by a knife or a blender

it's ordinary

archeaology and

I keep on digging

dusting, cataloguing

hypothesising

perhaps you were here