intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies
  that had knocked the pins down
  as their shoes gripped the dirt floor
  in the silhouette of dying
  dancing on corpses' ashes
    yeah, they had plans for him
  they has spun the last of the pimps
  corduroy, satin nailed jewelry lips
  while the guillotine just laughed again
  dancing on the corpses' ashes
    paramedics fell into the wound
  like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant
  an anesthetic penance beneath
  the hail of contraband
    they had been defected and excommunicated
  and all the pulses were subverted
  and they made sure the obituaries
  showed pictures of smoke stacks
    a vivid dissection that mocked
  the strut of vivisection
  semi-automatic colonies
  and a silencing that still walks the streets
    in the company of wolves
  was a stretcher made of
  cobblestone curfews
  the federales performed
  their custodial customs quite well
    callous heels
  numbed in travel
  endless maps made
  by their scalpels
    on my way
  nails broke and fell
  into the
  wishing well