Matter of When

Flashlight out of battery.

Electric dragons shouting,

lamenting truthfully,

in lovely, lovely storms.

Brain juice spilt all over the floor,

and the cats purr from shame,

to comfort madness from the putrid mess,

to jump dishonest from the brittle chairs.

To weave their yarn into a noose,

it toys with the tormentor's dare.

To deliver us from cataplexy,

to drink crude vitamins for the missionary.

To reject the cup of blood one last time,

to beg for help in the way of mime.