Millions of shriveled corpse-hands

With protruding yellow nails

Float in starless space

And screech down a million blackboards

To infinity

Until stretching from nail to skin
The globby red strands of meat snap

And the nails crack-bleed

And flip double-back

And the boards transmute

To coarse sandpaper walls

Leaving millions of red tracks

Until the fleshy tips turn to bone

And scrape, scrape, scraping

Leaving thick resins of marrow

Like trails of slimy slugs

And it goes on and on and on

To the rhythm of a throbbing temple . . .