Caroline Sasso




The yellow dead are crying               

I can see their lavender dentistry                                               

From the green anus nodes,

The green consummation sand,

The buck-eyed san-greena from killmother

The silken sub-hell gyve.


The yellow dead are sobbing now

Sobbing as they wear their holy hats

The holy hats burn sangrias     

Staining their sangrias


Decompose, my good sir

It will help the environment I swear

Oh good holy hat no, I’d rather ride your sweaty backbone to the wedding ceremony

Decomposition is Beethoven


I, a reasonable human now, will in time, join their harmony                        

I will sing the fifth part,   

I have seen the script                    

Seen scripts that labeled the maddest man soprano


Why the light shining on his grave



Why is he different?                          

The holy hat


If I rot, I will surely wake           

If I wake, I will surely rot              

These are the lines that created a paradoxical Anthony


Oh very wrought park of childhood memories,                                              

I pray to you because you are dead and you can whisper,                      

“Give me a turnip"                           

Burn me as an arsonist               

Protect me as a mother.               

Direct me as a commander

-The Holy hat