Mannequins in sweet repose-
Drip heavy tomes;
Crippled wings and burning feathers,
Homes rebuilt on broken bones.
and shattered windows
scream in cunning, awkward prose-
Quaint but brutally dismembered,
(far too cruel to be remembered)
colors fade to holocaust…
crawling toward obscene redemption,
lost in dusty, desert frost.
Blame disguised in righteous edicts,
In tickled moss,
you sleeping bastard-
you were never worth the cost.