of power and powerlessness,
chains and bars and gibbeted wenches.
garrottings and pressings,
rackings and beheadings.
Castrations.

Many, so very many,
crowd with us past massacre,
dying to be terrified,
petrified, appalled,
by the model grimness.

A ghoul-screech from the gloom
drives her warmly onto me,
but a UV beam, from God
knows where, fluoresces
her teeth to jewel-blue.

Was it Larry the happy
that, sadly, got stretched?
I squeeze her, not caring to know.