Siamese crocodile left breast
rises like an afterlife
and falls taking buckets of time.
Eye-beams through the keyhole
Gotham on the ground calling for super heroes
to repair the damages of democracy.
Breath huddles inside brown paper bags
until the count reaches someone missing
then the ready or not begins.
The bedroom turns anticlockwise
the crystal knob’s protection.
Lotioned hand holds spoons of demise
and projectiles of painful alternatives.
Cut umbilicals leave pools of aftermath
quicksand that becomes acne on the face of god.
Unintended thoughts told frantically
to curved lovers
are braided into hangman’s rope
leaving petechial hemorrhage.
The boogeyman here now
has greater weight here after
prayers, spells and talismans
against the hitman in the hallway.