Cameras inside the coffin interviewing worms. We have been metamorphosised from a mad body dancing on hillsides to a pair of eyes staring in the dark. A room moves over a landsape, uprooting the mind, astonishing vision. A gray film melts off the eyes, and runs down the cheek. Warm daughter of silence.
Dogs lie sleeping.
The wolf howls. A creature lives out the war. A rustle of cut words, choking river. Praying to Morrison, the modern god of poetry. Praying to Morrison, the modern god of poetry.