Goose’s wing is coming off
It flaps across sidewards
And falls, screaming angrily at itself.
I chew my nails, my eyes are sore
Blunt dead stalks stick out of a crust
Like the black trees of Hiroshima.
A prisoner is frantic behind bars
Screaming for the guard.
I inspect myself for black pores
Reach into my ulcered mouth
Yank at a decaying molar
Bite down on my bloated index
And hold it there numbly.