He woke in cruel synergy,
a sort that tingles like an old
collection of hands he'd slept on.
he rose on webbed ankles,
a stinking animal in a hole of light.
"Come forth." He did not move,
plucking a worm gently. Martha wept
her milky, roseate skin raw as shrimp.
His brother, never mentioned
had dashed himself to bits
from on high. By what right?