The Swallows of the Moon

The bitterest dregs are for me and my love,  

Under the moon rock and the shadow. 

Beatings, rape, a set of poison handcuffs. 

The flaming wheel of the stars revolves. 

In my eyes there is poetry in all things, 

The eyes that are black like a racoon. 

I get feral when you care for me, nurse. 

You see the living must bury the dead. 

I know where we can go for dinner; because 

I’m a cannibal.  There’s a fire-pit hid by bushes. 

I’ll tie you to it, as soon as the rain stops. 

Berate me all you can, baby I’m seeing another man.