witness in the woods

there’s a witness in the woods
there’s a tyrant on the train
there’s a king beneath the cave that’s holding everyone we think’s insane

no weapons for the women
no fuel for any fire
no water, food, or shelter; those are figments of desire

meanwhile blood is in the basin
there’s mosquitos in the milk
slugs are up and down the stairways
and their slime is smeared across the top of all your most expensive silk.