Red Death
In the green rooms of the Abandonarium
–– Lucie Brock-Broido
Red liquid
Pumped through the arm
Is it poison or is it blood
The red bell head
Cauldron of mourning
The jet of poetry, candied by time
Two gleaming red glass hearts
Beating in the sun
I touch them
Smell the pinked hyacinth
The very nature of things
The goddamn essence of things
Red Hell, Rosa Rubea
Burgundy awakening
The sparkling red elixir I drink
My mind suddenly flooding
With love and anger
The great illusio