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86 O Deceitful Tongue You love all words that devour, O deceitful tongue. —Psalms 52:4 Rogue slab in the slaughterhouse of the mouth, you love all words that whistle like bombs through the delphinium sky. O tongue that sucks honey from the vinegar bush—demagogue, street preacher, cutpurse at the afternoon hanging—break my neck a thousand times till I remember the digits of your prime number. Drunk tongue, warling, malt-mad forger in the bone orchard, give me your traitor’s code, so I can whistle my psalm through the sinworm night. Tongue of rough bread, blues tongue, wolf tongue. Kiss me, deceitful mouth, smash my curtain of skin, devour the air wild with bees, swallow their wings, make me a bloody hive for their bitter queen. ...

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