Mulholland End

In the nursery we rhymed,
As dangerous particles escaped
With a scent of tobacco

And crisp, clean formaldehyde
Entered into the waking pool,
Dusting off the Serpent’s who lie in wait;
Their glorious angels,
Desecrating the graves
Of contemporary musicians,

Who sleep in poverty beneath the snow,
Caressing the hard Earth with their bones;

And I yell to the goddesses
Of Rome;
Take me before
The fall.

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