The chatter at first
is maybe choral west
the chirping southern sunset choir.
Soon above it comes,
whirring up
like cranking the front of
horseless carriage,
a slow plateau in turn
victrola start up seashell
so big it needs a cane.
World war ramp up
dry insect cry.
Their piercing pulse is
searingly synced so surely
eardrum, it will rupture
pinch jaw to shoulderblade...
for certain this orrifice
it does bleed.
This one treebark mummy bug
alien plagueship Enterprise
that makes rattlesnakes of night
into hypnotizing sonic cries,
programs all heads
the coming Flood.
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