An odor he sugare:

        a mixture of blood and body, a peing

        petal t brings nausea.

        Bet palms the graves are full

        of ruined bones, of speectles.

        te dictator is talking

        op s, gold braid, and collars.

        tiny palace gleams like a ch

        and th gloves on

        cross t times

        and join the dead voices

        and ths freshly buried.

        t be seen, like a plant

        wh,

        .

        red has grown scale on scale,

        bloly er of the s,

        full of ooze and silence
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