Just One Piece, And Not One Penny More.

just one piece,

and not one penny more.

it is well hidden, seldom seen

this distortion of the skull. this manifest

where rests long lock of hair

good vibes to share

these knuckles hunched like glands

floating carbon-free

through a forest of  the goading wood

hoodwinked, the forskin's hands 

so do they shake and flake 

the almond trees

whose shaven legs beg heat

no more of else

no pines with needles 

strumming coral verse

bleached eyes now white

as Sunday tripe

the first bite is the cleanest

from the stomach of a cow