I garnish feathers after preening
            the sarcophagi and peer
            into his eyes

deep-fry locks of hair and
            veal to get chicken stock
            for faces of measure

he tells me to laminate mole-hide
  and tenderize daffodils and
  insinuate racist thoughts to beagles

the manhattan skyline burns red
  and the buildings pierce its heart and melt into the light -
                                    I am blinded

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