Angora; Or, the Plague

Amir of my covenant; Mohammad Awaken and find yourself still in two. Pigeon’s high spirit flapping As daylight rains through Dream clouds burst and, Ringing, draw true The sheep are raised and set to follow Like a fat candle mold Shepard Prince howls as purple blood splatters Processed by you and your Dachau Skyscraping trees are sprayed and patterned The emptied streets are waiting Cold and hungry from the black. Swollen Evisceratus. Drain from me the very life left in death. Set sail into neatness, like sea-foam spray. Running from where I became Lit like a flashgun, real game turn Naught but a puppet; a real boy.