Drawers of the Wheel Watch

ankles feasting dug their faces away
undergrowth reinforcing contempt
crawled mud-soiled body of one
a whisper that curls briefly – surging

immediately into the moment
Where it seems
To suddenly
Burst into place
Like a murderer loosened from the restraints
First black then white then back to white again
Burned the dead silence
Inebriated unmade bloodied
The dead lay face to face turned on their sides

The dead were exhausted

Reviving their ageless demise

Carrying themselves on their backs down the hell
At dusk to the gates brandishing sunken cheeks and tattered souls

(downpours of excrement)

were undressed and catered to the living
cold water poured under the door
in the darkening dream

siphoning every ounce of pain
that could be swallowed or beaten
the
gray
wash
of narcotics pouring
from
the faucet

the mystery has been thrown to the ground.


- Chris Mansel