Charcoal trap crushes dead matter,
kindled bones and remains
raw black warmth and wetness,
the charcoal crumbling like biscuits
tea-time traditions, oracles read leaves
and stare in fires, a wet kettle boils,
cook-cave shapes and cookie-cutter,
dead hairs and nails, bits of bone
rubbed to shine like golf clubs.
Charcoal feast to ashen feast,
wet gullets swallow and whimper.
Ringed larynx ridges,
wedding bands to speech,
constrict around undiamonds.
Shuffle it all with the poker,
players, until he bleeds and
vomits like
an old train
chugging charcoal.
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