THE RINGING INDICTMENT SERIES:
A MAD KILLER'S BANKRUPT IDEOLOGY
Your battery acid tongue
Dissolves hammer, anvil and stirrup
In a wash of cancerous suds:
"No wonder I'm all frigged up."
One steel-wool touch
Would have the Fake Eyebrow Lady at
Bloomingdale's makeup counter
I fly with hot leather wings
To find you've already
Wriggled free of your perfect skin:
Sweetheart! Satan loves you
More than you know.
Give him but a lavender-scented chance -
You will believe.
Concrete jailhouse walls speak their unjust longings,
Garroted echoes of hard-timers.
"Tough shit," as they say in Toledo.
¡Ay, son las cosas de la vida!
"I am Jesus Christ!"
Quoth the mental case
Who took a mallet to the Pieta.
Around a green-ringed neck
Cheap gold leaf.