The obvious is atrocious.
Horror is life itself
warm knives in the sluggish night.
… … …
guts torn along alleys darkened by howler assassins warm heart snatched gray wall agony sawn neck dazed blade rusty dull my entrails on the table sheared light drilled multiple vertical crack slow impalement walking through the cut-throat street broken ribs hoping for some headless glow cracking the cartilage of the spear yelling loud twirling blinding furious cock singing upcoming murders licking sweet thighs killer Bone gleaming biting hilarious rump steak blood mixed with fresh brains spattered on Mary’s cleavage the artist is not an ego she went home licking her own tits that’s my skull “the-flow-flows” could coincide with : SILENCE