They are dust annihilating in the dust.
The voice of a grazed beast.
An empty breathing.
The memory of a house in ruins.
The allegory of a monotonous song.
Each scraps on the streets.
The arrogance of buffoons.
The bitter secretion of his own mouth.
They are the dirty sand that the sea throws.
The cruel invertebrate speaker.
The unjustified vanity.
A hole in the skull, another beneah the abdomen.
A worm, certainly.
They eat secretions.
They feed with excretions.
They are dust annihilating in the dust.
The tick proud of their inventions.
A diary useless of dogs.
The cadence of the devastation.
An infected body down the river.
The broken voice of toads.
A grotesque coupling.
They are the soot of future centuries.
THEY are the WORLD.
* * *
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