A wrong chromosome, ugly-eyed, in the middle of a well:

My brain is a deck of cards…

My face swings on a chair, my skins inside out beneath it

Stretching across the benches of forgotten parks

The forest I dug at the edge of my bed, drew my portrait

In the arms of Bach. Notes missing, notes a flawed cursor

Communion-double-six words, at the center of the backgammon board

Rare fish-headed locks swimming in my mouth

In the golden dome of collapsed tents

A granite cross sniffs the void. I hear the dogs barking

In the OPENED RESIDUE OF MY CORPSE

We wait for the final messiah, my mother and I

And that apprentice in the mirrors, smearing his hand onto his fingers

I’ve forced African masks onto my fingernails

A tar baby grows in my temple

Now, in the Viking tower of a massacre, the blood moon climbs to my window

FORGET ME GOD, I AM TOO DARK NOW!