Invalid Litter Dept.

<br>intravenously polite it was the walkie-talkies<br>that had knocked the pins down<br>as their shoes gripped the dirt floor<br>in the silhouette of dying<br>dancing on corpses` ashes<br><br>yeah, they had plans for him<br>they has spun the last of the pimps<br>corduroy, satin nailed jewelry lips<br>while the guillotine just laughed again<br>dancing on the corpses` ashes<br><br>paramedics fell into the wound<br>like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant<br>an anesthetic penance beneath<br>the hail of contraband<br><br>they had been defected and excommunicated<br>and all the pulses were subverted<br>and they made sure the obituaries<br>showed pictures of smoke stacks<br><br>a vivid dissection that mocked<br>the strut of vivisection<br>semi-automatic colonies<br>and a silencing that still walks the streets<br><br>in the company of wolves<br>was a stretcher made of<br>cobblestone curfews<br>the federales performed<br>their custodial customs quite well<br><br>callous heels<br>numbed in travel<br>endless maps made<br>by their scalpels<br><br>on my way<br>nails broke and fell<br>into the<br>wishing well