Analysis of Trance

Don't say his name, like a terrain
free-falling subliminally into the
waterless pool.

Filled to the brim with him..

Row back-- throw back, an anchor
before shore. And hide among the
bushes; like a shadow of leaves
swaying

Hold your breath when he walks by,
the scent of men flares nostrils
open wide-- open eyed

For beastly things, shape themselves
with wings. But angels, do not sing
of sin.

Throw rocks-- throw off your socks,
the stink should ward them off.