a century of universal decay   in cyclotrons nuclei are split   souls are split, sounds are split insanely   while behind a quiet fence on a bench in someone's garden   doom weighs a century of separation   and her eyes are ancient and her palms are taut with nerves   it comes oozing   out of flowers at night   it comes out of the rain   if a snake looks skyward   it comes out of chairs and tables   if you don't point at them and say their names   it comes into your mouth while you sleep   pressing like a washcloth   beware, beware   nearby and cynical, death brandishes a hasty spade   here whispers are worse than curses, offer no consolation   how long the bureaucrats babbled on like crows about universal good...      if you meet a cross eyed person   you must plunge into the grass, alongside the chilly ants   fish through the green fingernails and come up with the four leaf clover   or your blood with congeal like cold gravy   if you run across a horseshoe, passerby, stop, take your hands out of your   pockets   and count the nails as you count your children or your money   otherwise a sand flea will crawl in your ear and fly into your brain   and the only wall you'll keep from going mad, is to be hit with a hammer   every hour   if a hunchback is in the elevator with you   don't turn away... don't turn away   immediately touch his hump   for a child will be born from his back tomorrow   and if he promptly bites the baby's nails off   so it won't become a thief that child will be holy   and you, simple bird that you are, may go on flying   whan you knock on wood   and you go   you knock on the cross