Cobwebs.

One thousand tiny tiny points shine the opposite pole so loud inside but fresh air might shut them up good Gott do I want them to shut up and not one of them speaks German how is that even possible it's not difficult after all it was the language of Gott apparently NO let's not get there the yelling oh Gott the yelling Jesus asked me my name I think and I told him and he turned to stone and melted in a shower of shrapnel everything disappears in shrapnel and I ich bin I'm still floating down the Rhine on a wayward scrap of a bombshell or a bullet hole we're full of bullet holes the shape and size and irregular bent of the father's eye they say only one had three but two can have three our father had three I refuse to believe it not that I believe  much of it anyway I don't know do you hear that you bastard maybe one day you'll return and I hope by then you've learned that faces are for more than yelling but you don't have a mouth anymore YOU DON'T HAVE A MOUTH ANYMORE she was always telling you how pretty you were like stars inside a flower made of blood gouged by a metal and lace contraption that hides underneath a pool of honey and milk all dressed in black but Gott and children are eclipsed by du ich bin stop that you left your mother strapped to the operating table and one day he'll return and all your fathers with it because syringes aren't medical they're a little more subtle than that for Gott's sake can't you all just be subtle please the syringes go in the eyes the syringes go in the eyes the syringes go the eyes eyes the eyes like a hole in the world staring into the pit and the pit stares into me because I am the pit runs away one day into the big city sleeping like neubauten and I can never go to the doctor because she told me it has three eyes and the devil has three eyes and he joined the chorus little by little adversaries little liars smell like the warmth of life who doesn't enjoy a bit of luxury and it comes so shiny like you made it stupid boy do it again in the city where monsters are friends instead of being made of bombs and blonde hair how did you not explode you tried so hard and ran away and now monsters are my friends hidden from my mind's eye Malkav's eye the eyes go in the syringe mein Herr poison poison poison poison poison poison oil BANG oil gas-jets clawing his way out of my mind like into black's in life a pillar can be nice when made of BANG and claws made of salt daughters of FILTH SCUM GET OUT OF MY CITY we thought you must be dead but she's screaming so it must be lies like the future dressed in black and all the children sing like men sing like men kommt ein Vogel geflogen setzt si nieder auf mein Fuß a good boy doesn't eat his friends nor shun his the monsters under his feet you always were a good boy oi lads better not get too excited I wonder when you'll speak mein Herr good Gott it smells down here.