I am no writer, feed me bleach.

I've densified the tongue beat
heart humming; a hound of horrors
pounding sounds of thudding meat
from it's organ seat

Bleating screechingly
scantily clothed - blood's been watered
loathe to the fresh - salted alien tides
deriding swells like pallbearers in chest,
with created breasts - collars starched
and I and my beach-worm bones
lie and lie to the sands

They have detected defections
and hung my forensics-bound throat

Tied the voice away at breakneck speeds...

so they'll devil in their deeds