Mumbling hectare of kin
and the firmament raged
when detractors’ cadavers opine
when relayed way

and a cold Porter’s viscous piddle
and souls dreaded like
when pushed up sandprints
when feigning set to multi-shriek/null-sense

and punctilious ukase
and dulcet vinegar aromatics of each Hell

—espont Death

When what has come has not come
when belied: a tremoring witness
and as for the token chain
when of access, ambled pall