What makes a man.....
When a man has a track
Clickety clack, clickety clack,
going in one direction so packed,
the stench of sweat and tears
pungent, putrid and pestilent,
excites his swooping SS cheers,
igniting pyrolytic flames,
a hazy smokescreen,
hiding his Tin Drum
in the recessed folds of his brain,
the vice like grip grinding
tightly, fighting blindly,
More..