Your carcass breathes
to the highest heaven, stretching
retching
a lifetime
all the way back
down
to one ragged elbow, blinded
to the terminal,
the surrounding
floor, and everyone
whishing past
in thunderous silence
to every open door,
abandoning
two stunned New York's Finest
to stand, to stare
to wish to the God
who made them
and you
they were never there, praying
it's really only stale
or at worst just pale
pudding
caking
trickling
glistening
down your cocked
welcoming
chin
from a mouth stuffed
and gagged
against all stares
with no good answers
to anyone's prayers

and a stinking grin

---

First published in Open Wide