Death is naked everywhere -
a prostitute is she.
I stand atop the steepest stair
and see her beckon me.
Her venom milk-ed breasts are bare,
a loop-ed noose twined from her hair
hangs from my balcony.
I breathe the vapours of her breath -
she pillows now my head,
I hear the gas-jets hiss - thus Death,
her part accomplish-ed,
lies still. I leave the tarnished coin of life upon the bed.













27 old applause
