***
The curse smites over again
with the same red paw from the Dead Sea,
the curse hums like a wasp that entered
the ear as did a sharp spear. It’s time
for me to submit myself to this fate,
he tells me the red jackass with his eyes
in the mist with black ash in his dirty
eyes. The plans of the fate don’t let you
escape. The red jackasses stand under all
the walls in the inferno underneath.
The inferno is underneath and from him
the Securitate fellows suck the sow’s teat.
The alleviation offers a place to the existence,
condemns to death. The nail boiling up
in Christ’s blood falls rusty under the level
of the soul, beyond the smoke of the respiration.
Thus smites the curse, exhaling fateful lusts.
Such is the death, such is woven the existence
among the cannibals. The nanny goat virgin
climbs the stairs of the inferno aiming to get out
with her provocative air and her muffled laughter.
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