and
reconsumed as blood-lust's banquet of still-warm skins...
tufts of fur clinging
to
the erstwhile costume....
as
the entrails
and
forcemeat
are strung
from
the rafters...a display to be critiqued....
.... repeatedly, redundantly 'eviscerated'........as if the eyes,
while sighted,
had
not
broadcast beams, beacons....lure-light.....brindled.... blatant......subtle....
and
had drawn fire...
and
moths....in a great winged terpsichorean trundle..........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem