Das Oath A Biggot Is A Spic
your bones are black, you have a black skeleton,
it cracks, it shatters, what's the matter?
the carnival lights frighten me, night rides glow in rows
with secrets in the spin cycle.
i've read up on nothing, these pages upon pages we write,
round and round,
our plays perform on their own,
they disown us and loan us a version we raze all alone,
welcome home
