The Blood Jet Is Poetry And There

I Have A Violence In Me That Is Hot As Death-blood.

I Would Catch Sight Of Some Flawless Man Off In The Distance, But As Soon As He Moved Closer I Immediately Saw He Wouldn’t Do At All.

I Am Dead To Them, Even Though I Once Flowered.

I Knew You'd Decide To Be All Right Again.

I Felt The Mask Crumple, The Great Poisonous Store Of Corrosive Ashes Begin To Spew Out Of My Mouth.