Like a Cat The Number Twelve Looks Like You

Give him back his sweater
That poor fellow has only

Orchestrated symphonies
Into the poisoned ant hills

You have tried, I'm afraid
Don't let it hurt, I shouldn't stay
Show your cards
Now I won't out
Stain the tub, clot the streak
Cock the wheel, push it deep
Fallen shade drowsy
Left me hopeless
Carve my head, great disguise
Took a breath, gave it back
Warly aged
Self pitying misfit
Experience, coincidence
Quality, menstruating
It makes more sense
To speak nonsense

What is it like to scatter organs all over a
Deeply pasteurized land?