he is nothingnow. with a
broken shadow between
his thighs, a swingin’ sorrow.

he is hollownow. he rattles in
the breeze, a subhuman calabash
spilling calamity on the shoulders

of the chaste… hate him. he is
haze. his Great Faith composed
of a flimsy fabric. he believes in

nothing but decaynow. himself. bacteriabody; a polluted penis,
an askewed skeet…

he is manless-minded. soulless. if
you see him, you should SHOUT! no;
if you see him, you must shoot to kill.