their voices kick-clamber, clumped or alone,
each over the humpbacked & snake-bitten moan
of a fellow dethroned by drowned trumps & thrown stones.
the growl of them drones into teakettle tones, cast-metal bones,
abstractions, loaned hearsay, didactions lumped bilge-grey.
fain self-serving dinge clumps their veins' mirrored hallways.
ego-grim cologne eagles frump unfriendable haircuts,
pace in gumptionless guts of vain silvery space-quays,
wait, shelved, shrill & graceless, till the snip-sister's dry tut.
but feed me birdseed: my heart jumps, a fried betel nut,
& I leave them in ruts of base fetters and creed-crust.
deed to slow-slumping liars the hammer-and-nail glut,
while we thread lonely rivers with pliers of pale lust.

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