The Tower

And from this little
hole in hell,
I saw ghosts
with terminal diseases,
faking rhetorical sanity,
IV drips,
nausea and fevers
adding years to our already
shortened lives,
melting muses in
dusty cathedrals,
liquor and vampires
on London streets,
pigs in paradise
getting aggressive turpentine fixes,
watching people
who were watching people,
murder and psychopath temperatures
rising the death tolls,
agony and reclusiveness
kept my mouth
nailed shut,
like the belfry windows
of the red queens tower,
singing lullabies
in my sleep. 

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