Lashing his last fine gasp,
He stings in blistering silence,
In infamy, this man of stillness,
Stammers untrammeled.
Umbilical is his bilious self-speak,
Meaning the little tubers protruding
From the corpse of the dreck
About to be spent was once supple.
He breaks in bones to forgo body ingrown,
Droops in purge from dreams,
Staking his moment contained,
To puncture her ripened sleep.
She militates his million little trinkets,
Digesting his sounds and scalding
In a bristling furore of limbs,
Giddiness subsides, trascendin' nothin'.
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