Super-Max Poem by Leonard Dabydeen

...eerie sounds echo

through the nostrils

and the esophagus is cracked

like old parchment

body-aches no longer matter

for pain is like a vial of hope

as the mind crawls into every

nook and cranny

of the tortured walls

splatter of blood

smells of anger

hate and disgust

worse than a wretched stomach

draping the eyes to know no remorse

what manner of God

must I hold in my sleep

to be witness of this spectacle

before my eyes

are closed.