Angelo Angelucci, by the Fountain of Serpents, hollowed
   seven-month-old lambs, submersed  
       for seven days in alkaline

their intestines, combed them, braided, coiled, stretched
   them across rafters, them drying blonde 
       like her shook-down hair:—

                                                   he favored it put-up, but with a puttanesca spoor pinned
                                                      into her bun:—wool-thick, a tuft to clutch
                                                          and sniff.  Of the cut, he 

                                                   said eviscerare, pfft coltello, meaning guthook, crooked  
                                                      his finger in her neck’s notch.  Butcher,
                                                          he drew netherways.