The Prow

Voivod

Zoning in a hall of glass

plasma flowing from a cask

piercing overtones

mainline into my back pack



it's full of clouds in my house



a grey hive, humming white souls



frenzy reviving the room

energized by many flumes

drip-drop, on my head

wakes me from a thousand moons



circle dance inside the cave

all movement brings a message

larvae, in their holes

waiting for a summer daze