The tomb of paranoia is painted
Yellow, and green, and beige
The spine of an impossible,
Endless creature
Where time never marches--
Except for when the clock ticks--
Where time stands still
...Hello, Madame Epachin,
Hello, Miss Sosostris!
Confined within the frame of my camera
Sipping tea while St. Mary in the next room over
Weeps and prays for bombs that never hit
...Another day, another
Pound of my flesh torn away
An oil painting
Of Kruschev, missing a chunk of his face,
Watching me where I lay
And where I rot
...Mercy! I cry for mercy
For righteous pain and searing holy light
To cleanse this unholy vessel
That thought it could be made whole
But St. Mary's half a century dead
And was only ever a woman
...One day I will crawl out of the dirt
Tender in new skin
I will feel the breeze
And spread my wings
And finally,
Start to sing