Scope J.

The Russians are going
The Russians are going
Departing like merchants
Dragging the contours
Into the never settling
Snow
Behold not a possum
Nothing to sneeze at A rouble left
Spinning
Rouble keeps
Spinning
Oh where is A sombre
Reverie?
Fingered
But I won’t
Be soiled
I won’t beg
Or lift
My Voice
And I won’t
Be soiled
The sun will never
Rise
But I will see
It Spilling down
The slave ships
Cross the bay
A tear will never
Fall
But I will feel
It Gliding on the
Cheekless
Gliding on the
Cheekless
Please
Cut her to Ribbons again
Long flowing
Ribbons again
I’m wearing
The wire
On the outside
Grows the furside
On the inside
Grows the skinside
So the furside
Is the outside
And the skinside
Is the inside
Oneside likes the
Skinside inside
And the furside
On the outside
Others like the
Skinside outside
And the furside
On the inside
If you turn the
Skinside inside
Thinking you will
Side with that
Side then the
Softside fursides
Inside which
Some argue is The wrong side
If you turn the
Furside outside
As you say it Grows on that side
Then your outsides
Next to skinside
Which becomforts
Not the right side
Where do the
Sewers go?
They gotta go Somewhere
I know they
Can’t empty
Into the
Sea
Gotta go Somewhere
Wherever the
Sewers go That’s where
You’ll find
It Soaring the
Darkness of A life
It is the
Dagger
Not the
Knife
Fingered
But I won’t
Be soiled
I won’t beg
Or lift
My Voice
And I won’t
Be soiled
Early birds
Will not
Resolve
The issue
As runners
Leap to Fly
Tree climbers
Glide to Ground
Night without
A star
Is what a Night is And for me A glass
To bring
The stars
Around
At the
Roadsides
Carts are
Piling up With corpses
And breath
Just keeps on Flowing
Up ahead
In the
Shadow
A bootleg
Is hooking
Please
Cut her to Ribbons again
The Russians
Are going
The Russians
Are going
I’m wearing
The wire
Fire
Without
Smoke
Smoke
Without
Fire.