an epoch ellipsis - the amenta lyrics
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two wings of the choir
crushed by te deum and dies irae
roting crowds clamber
not with a whimper but a whine
a poor cur’s lapse
square dwellers begging for change
an arid spring
cold, unmarked grave
birds flown to entropical climes
sore ire cysts sick eyes saw
poised upon collapse
a poor cur’s lapse
and with a pauper’s lisp
in slip’s apocalypse
the lying and the lamb
unlikely bedfallows
cloistered bones, now free
hung from streetlights, gibbering
tongue*tied tastemakers
sage and sinnerman
where ya gonna run to?
babel on
one final brass blast
of an arc/angles geomatria
seize to exist
yea, judge me
but p*rs* sentences
heartbeaten, youthless
the long liquid list
yea, judge me
but p*rs* sentences
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