All the robins roost, and weasels seek knotholes in fallen logs
Of creatures with a pulse, men and monsters only brave the understorm
Wise folk bolt and batten, while numb ghouls open wide the postern gate
To the covetant, this covenant, and embrace this remembrance:
Come ye faithful to the table, the feast of the knife eternal, the sacrificial bull
Let sirens sound and moremaids serve red whine and honey nead
Now in full gale, an ill wind blows no mind
Casts drift-would and men-o-whar to sea-chewed strand
Swamps galleont, dinghy, and cruiser
Stirs the stinking deeps, boils heaven, shreds the middle air
Rains frogs and airliner Popsicles down on vagrants below
Dislodges loose garbage and pink flamingoes from muddy lawns
Perhaps beyond the sky-shroud, the moon yawns and the Son smiles.

Who would know?

When sky is spent and sea is fresh out of waives
Revenants slip forth from mourning-after slumber
Three days later, beyond the closed shudders
Every guessed may rise again. Hint: The twomb was always empty
Peacock pimps hawk catches of the day on the moist wharf
Waves wash their vomit back into Mother Sea, grumble and hiss
Spiders scuddle to repair webs, restock larders
Undercover clergy issue black-market absolution on those lost-at-sea-men
Grim reapers mount their trysickles and race down moltaintops
To throw wide the sewergrates and manholes of nervana and let drain the acid wash!
Watercolors of dawn swell, spill, and arch back across the vermament
Savory smoke of sundried nightcrawlers and rotten gas climbs toward the painbow light
Promising the life internal, haplessly, hope-ill-ly everafter

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