Replacement

The dream is a death. Shameful.
Somebody (SOMEBODY!) in whose hand the lock flies
open --- the bellowing darkness breaks out.
THE KEY THAT OPENS THE SECRET IS THE SAME THAT LOCKS IT.
THE SAME MOUTH BREATHES COLD AND WARM ALIKE.
MY DEAREST ENEMY: THE DOUBTS IS OBSCENE.
The girl has eyes like lemon slices on a martini glass.
THE AXE STRIKES --- ITS COUNTLESS SOUND-WAVES
       ARE THE SILENCE.
Jéhtamet makde szabboli; who could've dreamt it?
THE SOUL IS THE RELIC OF WINGS ---
       INTERIORIZED EQUIVALENCY.
Out-laid rails,
muffled megaphone mouths,
                                                                                     test-tube god.
WHAT ELSE, BUT A PRISON-MASK GROWING TOGETHER
       WITH A CEMETERY?
The guard with his machine gun begins a howling.
Guide Blake to the water trough; he might get thirsty.