The Iron Worm

The iron worm spat venom into my heart
Cigarette butt burns two fangs: a martyr
Now it no longer weeps nor tears apart
The iron worm spat venom into my heart
The giggling physician thumbs their nose
The poison flows to my fingertips
The iron worm spat venom into my heart
Sacred vines tie me to the mast of his ship

Physician’s goals are a danse macabre
They twist me in a St Vitus trance: a martyr
Dislocated movements, back bent faster
Physician’s goals are a dance macabre
Sea-leggéd, broken arabesque
Wormwood test – For wicked souls, no rest. 
Physician’s goals are a danse macabre 
I rise and fall to the beat of their final test.

When I am exhausted, my steps all tripping
My venomous heart pulses, heaving, martyred
Hung on the wall, drawn in childish hand, no quarter given
When I am exhausted, my steps all tripping
The physician comes wielding radioactive water:
Asking: “Do you want all your sins to be forgiven?”
When I am exhausted, my steps all tripping
The iron worm answers, furious, spitting.