"Cerebus at the gates with a stogie in each mouth pulling / against the chain--a big-band chorus of "nobody loves a fairy when / she's old" inspiring the boy to grab that skull from the mantelpieces, adorn / the cheekbone with glitter and kisses, jism oozing out of eyeholes while / the Stranger looked on with a gaze older than the stars, the room spinning / faster, the wee hours sprouting calla lilies from the carpet--all of them / crushed as the boy fell."
"Please indulge this. .... These is no last of the honey, only more to unwrap. Only bodies underfoot to preserve a kiss in was--winter gone-- tongues cut apart by grass where royal dandelions hoard the sugar of the field"