Discovery of the Avant-Garde

I HEAR A SOUND FROM A CRACK IN THE FLOOR.
MY FINGERS ARE BLOODY FROM DIGGING FOR MORE.
THE SOUND OF FACELESS ANIMAL GORE
HITTING THE DOOR, HITTING THE DOOR.

MUSEUMS CHART EVENTS TAKEN PLACE,
AND THE TWO COMPOSERS IN THE CRITICAL RACE.
INVENTING THE MUSIC WHICH INVENTS THE FACE.
CRIMSON LACE, CRIMSON LACE.

THE BAND, CONFUSED, DISGUSTED, IN TRANCE;
THE LOOKS ON THE FACES IN THE AUDIENCE.
SILENT WERE THE ANIMALS ON THE LANCE;
WRITHING IN DANCE, WRITHING IN DANCE.

I FELL THROUGH THE CRACK IN THE CLAY AND THE SAND.
KNEE DEEP IN THE BLOOD THAT RAN FROM THE GLAND
OF THE ANIMAL SACRIFICE AND TO THE BAND.
RHYTHM IN HAND, RHYTHM IN HAND.