prune is the ugly of plum, as scarified jowl to the smooth,
as deadened eyes to the wide unbelieving limbprisoned.
OH here she comes brightless in the rubric heat with her dishnblade
in her gap-fingered hand and her thorns and her shady slouch.
plain is the pretty of tropical prinks to the fisherman’s eye.
cleaner the corpse of flutter and wing in the swathe.
OH here comes the straitened virgin trapped by the tinnital bell
in her muffled hood in the teardrop shrine unboned.
grace is the cowering dog in the cave of the crimson scream,
in the writhe of her slumping tongue and the teeth gone slop.
OH here they come dolloping pain in the blindfold bowl
of the beggared daughter, dot in the humdrunk drum.
rich is the sculpted child of the master carve, claiming her place
in the house, and poor is the natural hut of a knifeless god.
OH there she goes speared by a hunter’s thorn in a rusted veil
with a painted face in a string of bloods and a fundal chain andafundalchain.