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