they must rise, make for the strange rooms
where madmen dandled with
the sadness of the coke-filled wounds
which sang and sang all night
and the mad must appear salved
by those old-type native foolish things
which don the jeweller’s hocked
and sin-beleaguered rings
and the scene was direly set
to feature fools who should not
dive in the pools (once called the lakes)-
the stage was cold and would not
darken the faces of death’s cot…
demurely, night must swallow day?
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