As I Bleed to Death, After some time, These dead men occur to me
In my place where we collect the dead new
denizens emerge of note tonight these fair citizens are plebes all:
Firstly-Newly streaming Commoditus splayed his Brother-open-
Electrocutus made-of-Glass for Snapping at his wife-of-Wool
So much, shesaid, was made of Glass, there was too much to tell
Secondly As Born-in-cracks counted his tax this Coinagian whittled the sparks required
Therefore coins required Piled up The dole the common bun the gilded butter of dawn
a workers elegy of Song-counted coins was hummed, Until he died, one more into the breach
Thirdly-the-plot borne of Lascivious’ night-thievery amok will go unwell
Therefoe he will-be-stabbed in the |dark| steel will drip his |dark| blood
(will (drown the (alley the alley) cats will) drown)
In the Rag and Bone shop of the |night| damp pulpit collects in the reservoir of |night|
So much blank paper, porridge drips |night|ly from the edge of lips, manumission from the |night|
Tone accapelas of the poor wrung in the rag and bone shop of the mind:
The stockman’s scared lung might hack another verse
Therefore, Fat Porkbellis fatly warbles
the train counts-his-life away
While by the banks, an old man draws his knife
A Century God I say unto you, a Century of Life?
here my prayer Lord, | | I want back my Wife
now cut
Fourthly, Galvinius carefully/caliously boasts a golden leaf upon his receipts
Therefore, Galvinian appeases his father’s wishes and is
lost in the wash of the River
Finally, Anthropologus’ count is the remaining
congealer Therefore disrobing I just before bed His nakedness
is raw he counts one, a Last-sound catches his eye
My early morning meadowlark churns electricity from her lungs
never a bird song more sweetly said all the cities-silent-crawl
The dirge of useless envy for the dead is all, is all.
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