Sun In Your Eyes

In the white sea of sun bleached straws I saw a crow struggle, go under drowning In the glare of sun heat and the end of everything I was given the chance to see, feel and intimately know. An eddy of heated water was running down the drain the wrong way hotter than lave This must be hell and I ran away from the struggle of the past and present dancing in obscene sexuality in the shadow under a carob tree... and I heard the raw laughter of syphilitic whores mouths' like gaping sore and a road of rotting teeth, but I hear music to and am salvaged by a crow.