It were a fever of ants astride the evacuated asp

On earth as it is in heaven

It were an infection of flies on the eviscerated  beetle

Give us this day

Under the ant cloak were rendings were knife-ings, swearing and bitings

Lead us not

As each infant organ on a careful hoist
The fox sulking by

Our father

The honeysuckle hiding fanning itself sweeping back it’s golden hair

Thy will be done

The bird dead with gravel eyes
The cavity where the belly

And give us this day

With the black dog walking
The boy not listening
And he feels no suspension
He hears no pain
The horse’s voice whispers not unto him
For the breath of the wind just too little loud
He sees no eyes
For the fever of ants a- dance

Lead me not

say something nice ... or not

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