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.