Of sick,
Sickly sleep,
Stunned,
And remissions,
Back and forth,
And back on all fours,
This escaping hairy, hoary heart,
Wrapped,
And held tight,
Sticky,
Bloated bandages,
And matted fur,
Snuck back into the house,
Let loose,
With my own hands,
To murder continuity,
And contaminate time,
Pillow cases keep record,
And sexual innuendos pin suicides to wandering beds,
Bait the silver cage with fresh meat,
And trap it drunk,
In hand,
With wooden stake and mallet,
Latch and force the door,
Close this cycle for yet another thousand years.
