Under Those Dark Barren Stars of Straw
under those dark barren stars
of straw which one of you is ever
really alone you are never alone
or stand in apprehension living
less than the dead with their machines
whose tongues amid the slim
partitions through open windows
your famished sheets still feast
upon and those light asswipe stains
of tombs are now emptied of any
balanced kiss or light shipped to
me on hell’s edge where you three
have cockslapped my face with sorrow