it's it

name's door defiles

your hot ladder clay

,it's a flume knife a

shade ripped across the

centered view .just a

skull bead burns ,wha

tchamacallit chews the

broken string .ah the

moon its trash ddumpp

enters ,rain of dead

crickets ,what you de

spelled ,or ststrung down

off the roof

,shouted ,sponging ,sh

aped the foreskin sp

rung back from tooth