XXX.
Whoopin' Mouth Disease.

63.
The SADNESS hits
You, yes you, like a bodyslam
In the imperative case

Your face adamantine; your body calcifies,
Your cabuchon cut is old .

You turn back anxiously to watch for flames
& HOWL black fury in your salt disguise
The quaking earth rolls by with all the love

Of a policeman on break.

Don't say I don't say you
Don't say I didn't tell you
Don't say; you don't say.
It's all locked away
In the back.
You yes you don't look back.