House of Hollow Men (Poem)

Love enters, lost souls bleat the passing day
upon the hill of skulls.
He breathes and chokes the dust of birth thick
upon the nettled soil.
None enter the brittled halls of pain where
Hollowed men ply trade and cost the gasp and
exhaltation.
The hand abandoned by the flesh from little teeth
gnawed wide to salivate placed upon the mantle.
The whore plastered upon the wall with legs mottled
with the spittle of the worm.
Gazed and wanton the plastered halls offer their delights
and confusions of dark nights.
Desolated unthreaded footsteps trace the lusted whisper
and click of horn upon wood.
A blasted house consumed and bitten by fire and bullet
tender pieces fall.
Of cloth and nylon discarded thrown wide as vile seed
sets in flesh.
Of noise and bluster sickened sound as ears bleed while vultures feed
and all is constant fear.
Of flying steel and at the wheel insane desperation as tears flow with
the hand upon the switch.
In the sky the vultures shine with inner light and circle withered palms
and wept rivers flood the plain.
The Hollow men grasp and wrestle dirty hands and whisper vile deeds eyes bright as pearls.
We build and smooth repair and delight the house where windows shine so bright where walls burst with filth and wallow in its stink.
The House of Hollow men.