Sadness, scarab

    ,

    spiderweb egg,

    scramble-brained rat,

    bitcon:

    No entry here.

    Dont come in.

    Go away.

    Go back

    south your umbrella,

    go back

    norts teeth.

    A poet lives here.

    No sadness may

    cross threshold.

    these windows

    comes the world,

    fresh red roses,

    flags embroidered h

    tories of the people.

    No.

    No entry.

    Flap

    your bats wings,

    I rample thers

    t fall from your mantle,

    I s and pieces

    of your carcass to

    the wind,

    I will wring your neck,

    I itc,

    I will sew your shroud,

    sadness, and bury your rodent bones

    beneatime of an apple tree.