3 CENTIMETERS FOR WITTGENSTEIN

There is a hidden God in the mattress of our Bedlam
Swinging from the rafters of an unhinged disperfection
With all the Grace; what affords-
Half a smile to a gallows
Where a whole Grim
Grins-

And narrows

Wings assume the Sky wants
a closer look at you
before you Fall
And your Heart is the Beast
that never
Sleeps.