These Arms Are Snakes

Mescaline Eyes

These Arms Are Snakes


Conceptive city soon to contract and birth a child of its own rats and
I was waiting.
I've been waiting long enough to eat this town. What
was found on the wall was written by a third grader and read "I was
found like molten rats in your city unkept, in your city I wept." Now
this takes us to well groomed children cross legged groping at braille
trying to read their creators name.
In fervor and panic wanting to go
home in mini van and good smells. In tandem with mom, tranquilized in
defense. All your mothers and fathers sisters and brothers head to
hills overlooking building of banks and telephone operations.
It was then they saw the born purpose.
To excavate holes and reproduce.
To eat the sweeping of its forefathers thought fullness.
To eat the
bygones unwanted. To spread disease in sects of three.
1-2-3.
And all
in all there is nothing left.
Chicken feed left for your heirs.
Streets
leaked with sewage for the mind.
I was waiting long enough to take
this town.

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