comes the breath of the world,

I will wring your neck,

that fall from your mantle,

scramble-brain九-九-藏-書ed rat,

No entry here.

Through these windows

of your carcass to

the victories of the peo九-九-藏-書ple.

go back

the four corners of the wind,

Go back

with seven crippled feet,

fresh red roses,

A poet lives here.

I will swee九-九-藏-書p the bits and pieces

your bats wings,

Flap

I will stitch your eyelids shut,

I will trample the feathers

Go away.

spiderweb egg,

Doｒead.９9ｃｓｗ•ｃｏmnt come in.

south with your umbrella,

Sadness, scarab

sadness, and bury your rodent bones

north with your serpents teeth.

beneath the九-九-藏-書 springtime of an apple tree.

bitchs skeleton:

No entry.

No.

No sadness may

flags embroidered with

cross this threshold.

I will sew your shroud,