Ores

Birds can be heard pecking their way out of ribcages
This bone surround resounds, please give them a cuttlefish!
There's a lump inside my throat - there are worms inside my oesophagus.
Who'll tear my interior? Who'll stab this area? Who'll stab this area? Who will?

I'm not the captain, but if I was the captain I'd fire on your ship to light torches in the ocean;
flickering like peregrine.
It's perched in the vein like a tern or a doctor's spike digging in search of primitive life,
to dry out slowly this strong muscle.
The sound of an aviary's akin to a chamber.

Sex makes idiots of us all!

I thought I could sense a mutiny so I grabbed the nearest weapon...
but this ancient-old pedigree, that cuts through the foam like a bow,
caught me by the wrist and said "you'd better count on something else than violence...
cause in it's turn it brings horrors".
And down this tunnel the rowdy-mouth of a train's wheels is trying to fright blood from the heart in a marching band.
Have heart in the marching band - pose - because the capriciousness of love presents itself as a clatter.
And under the canopy cries hurt the middle of this forest.