And they drowned upon the dark, white cloaked
Hordes that rent the sun, drowned beyond the
Moons, unwept the cruel oblivion. The opioid fiend
Careening, a wasteland seared upon the brain,
While doctors drink champagne, and demons
Dance on the bones of shattered swains. Blue
Blood rapists living the dream in the OR, nurses
Giggling beside them, on the cross the sleeping
Maid, her ankles clove asunder, the primordial
Wound besieged by wicked men. The stalking of
Grim shadows, remorseless on the pall, as the Paxil
Slayer’s cry runs like doom on lifeless walls. Fallen
Unto dark were windswept songs of a callow lamb,
Fallen unto dark were the heathen without dawn. A
Childlike widow, mourning beside her pallid knight,
The mark of Vioxx, while mobsters at Merck shop for
Yachts and the latest jets, their speeding tickets paid –
Grisly gates unbowed – the scourge of crimson rain. And
In a gloomy corner of an unutterably wicked place rocked
A moaning savaged man, his anguish interminable, the
Baleful needle that clove black death on all the world –
Alone on barren plains – unborn against the night. A soul
In bondage, the hearth’s thrice cowering, soiled and drooling
Beneath the sullied undrawn shroud; and beyond the gelid
Haze, evil angels lurking, in disdain of the hallowed light.