Archangel
7 / 10
fantazia, co spravila so smells...ta si zasluzi plny kotol
The empty hand of innocence
Transfusing street of the sorrows
And children of the wood
Hounded, shredding off veils
Unwinding all the sheets of the dead world droning
Overturning tables
Laden with silver sacrificial birds
Beating goatskin drums
Advancing With hands outstretched
And we keep filling them with mercury
Nitrate, asbestos
Baby bombs blasting blue
Scavengers picking through the ashes
Children of the mills
Children of the junkyards
Sleepy, illiterate, fuzzy little rats
Haunted, paint-sniffing
Stoned out of their shaved heads
Forgotten, foraging
Mystical children
Foul-mouthed
Glassy-eyed
Hallucinating