Dross

A build-up of stillborn maggots in me,
transparent butterflies float from my head.

Vitamins, ignorant of pain, ring sirens
as we arrive in new blank rooms to sing surrender.

False-heaven leaks from a demiurge's slit
as he knobs the controls of a slobber-spouting brain.

Cataracts belch in the folds of our notions.
Unnamed fish scream for life in ocean trenches.

The rainbow-leech-formed suffering of humans
eats the last crumbs of the pyramid of science.

The sense of the tragic in itemized bills,
waterspouts port the mute & scaled fish to heaven.