prime

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