Whodunit? The silent witness?
I'm beside myself with laughter
In the dark, neutrally stabbing the general sulk
Don't bank on the pokerfaces
With their monochrome make-up
I know their type Edited and clean-cut Dot dot dot
I could blow their cover
Casting shadows on the screen
I'd walk the bloodhound myself
The sallow ivories are with me
Dogging my steps as I toddle off
Till the iron curtain falls
Under my skin a private-eye
Likes watching with
Venetian-blinds shuttered to half-light
If your capital slots you in, isn't that necessity enough for you?
The way the stuff of dreams moves you, numb like furniture (in that order)
The perfunctory hypostasis of being being overinsured
So I showed the toothless my poetic license to

Sure they got it My IOnU, the pound of flesh,
My soul which cost a bom
And even then I gave the formal toothpaste smile
Don't take me for some narcotic narcist,
Grafted back unto the den's wom
That feeds the hypothalamus on the assembly sideline,
The mirror-maw's white-line
No matter Let the dusty dusky jurist,
Who peers over my shoulder and keeps that blotted copybook,
Shut his trap It's time to twist the knife
Turn the key to freedom and free will
The golden flick-knife refracts
The half-light into a reel of whizzing pictures;
In free indirect discourse
The body with organs recharged
The hand that strokes; the fresh blood of my veins;
My femme vitale; leaves in bloom;
Fall into spring; home sweet home
Under my skin a private-eye
Likes watching with
Venetian-blinds shuttered to half-light
Whodunit? The silent witness?
I'm beside myself with slaughter,
Framed into untimely chalk lines,
Arranged with a pillow over my head
The cloak is ragged, the dagger cold