Sadness, scarab
,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,
bitcon:
No entry here.
Dont come in.
Go away.
Go back
south your umbrella,
go back
norts teeth.
A poet lives here.
No sadness may
cross threshold.
these windows
comes the world,
fresh red roses,
flags embroidered h
tories of the people.
No.
No entry.
Flap
your bats wings,
I rample thers
t fall from your mantle,
I s and pieces
of your carcass to
the wind,
I will wring your neck,
I itc,
I will sew your shroud,
sadness, and bury your rodent bones
beneatime of an apple tree.