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Carnival Trade

Above and below, the masochist show
Their tangled dread and frantic glow
Of faces abhorred by the overhead.
They stitch their lips and begin again.

In catacomb dream, they march and throw
Up their hands for torture to blow
Through their incarnates, their pigments that grow
When shrines of men are slaughtered instead,
Above and below.

The carrier shows as her massacre slows
What little is left, the Masters do flow-
Mourn thy Driver, enslave the wind
For when ancestors tumble back again.
Dior the evil, we may know,
Above and below. 

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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