I spent seventeen nights in the city,
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watching the horizon beckon for a buck knife
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to bludgeon it's belly, to end the pregnancy.
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I've spent seventeen nights in the city,
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watching the face in the embryo,
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traced by fleshy twilight, pleading for cesarean.
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You can see it all from the rooftops
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a swollen vagina in the sky.
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Threatening birth
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three shades of blood to soak its bed.
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One: fiery red for the shutdown of the science bled sun.
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Two: viscous black for the sex lives of the science fed youth.
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Three: milk white for the impossible vista of the skyline as it shorted out,
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crackled with static and was replaced by a network of newsprint.
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You can see it all from the rooftops
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a swollen vagina in the sky.
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So close you can smell the morphine in its veins.
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-----------------
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The Face In The Embryo
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| The Blood Brothers |
