Gross Times Four

With the ocean waves crashing drag my soul tonight
underwater there's no room for oxygen left in
my lungs clip crossed compressed through a
noise gate every syllable is an admonition
this thought I spread like an insidious
awareness my promises end well you know
folded inside the bag the medusa bared
breasts iron jag bitten bleeding gums
- next -
the infinite crystalline endeavours
of the half-robotic priest
the seagull flying over the bay
inexplicable attitudes convey
the darkest treason unseen