The first touch of powdered crush weighs

Leaden on faces of clever angels 

Whose plush fingers point toward God 

 

Bestial iron gates deign to 

Contain creeping incense of sulfur and death

Whilst the prolapsed earth 

Gapes its creaking belly 

 

To swallow someone’s daughter,

Flimsily gathering last bits 

Of radishes and potatoes,

Before her stable tenure 

 

That some freakish faggot might 

Seize her flesh in the staleness of 

                                                              Captivity by

 

puckered hand and gnarled tooth 

and forces above her rank 

A Mother’s cry wreaking iodine slab 

torture tools of tongue and whip 

 

Leaving us the loveliest

and most regular of rapes