The black hole
at the end of your street
where the devils come to meet
is something to avoid
is a broken stepless staircase
in a seedy uptown bank
is the clutch + gearstick
of a military tank
is the shells they fire
in the twisted spire
of a rigid cathedral -
they shoot shells at art!
and history +
yet we forgive them still
when they curl their pointed tails
between their legs
+ beg
for forgiveness
why do we let it happen +
complain like we didn't know
what could + would likely happen
if we let the world go
let the orb slip out
from between our fingertips
into a black and hellish abyss
into a black hole
at the end of your street
where the devils come to meet
