Here I am, composing of burlesque,
Out of where they rest their necks,
Sunken in the splintered cradles
~
And ramshackle lads,
They ask for it, as a boy,
I eat my wishes on golden toothpicks
and digested them with wolf intestines
~
I fell from the heavens,
As a fetish blessed with an operatic skeleton
And as the stars watch me descend,
I crack the family tree and,
Chopped off all of the branches
*