oh blood, my blood, every drop our blood, not yet congealed, pouring, pouring, gushing like a sprinkler head broken by a mower, spurting life to death and we’re over here laughing like mad because we’re slick with it, and we’re laughing and spitting like a stone lion’s mouth, a stone-penis-statue squirting blood and semen and saliva and words and lies and truth, and we’re crying and people hate it because cynics rule the world,
