On Death. 1st Edit

[Richard]

Hey Billy,
I'm going to be honest here, and say that the first time I read this poem, I had no idea what it was about. However, after some rereading and googling, I understand and actually quite like this piece. I'll go into some more detail below:

On Death.

Like everyone I have a hidden citadel;
An ex wood-wormed drawer where treasures trove. -I love the image of the drawer. It's something I can quite relate to you, as my "treasure" drawer has evolved over time to include shelves. I also like the use of the word "citadel" because it sums up how we protect some random stuff.
Twin Watermen lay in state -The "Watermen" confused the heck out of me. It took some googling to realize you were talking about pens. I'm a bit ashamed to say that my knowledge of pens is lacking.
embraced in shrouds of fine filigree.
Upon their autopsies the worst was confirmed
Exsanguinated, bled out like Halal -Nice enjambment of "Exsanguinated," it's a word that is worthy of emphasis.
chicken on Eid Al-Adha.
I'd sacrificed them like a Muslim holy-man; -I like this simile. Do you mean the pens are like something a Muslim holy-man would sacrifice, or are the pens like a Muslim holy-man who is sacrificed for some reason?
a final stroke for each.
I never fed them but the once, -I like describing writing as feeding the pen. It also works well with the personification of the pens, making them sound like neglected pets who were only ever fed once.
and replaced each one in turn.
Flawless in the right hands
they never marched to my tempo. -While this metaphor is technically fine, I wonder if you could come up with something that extends the image of the pens as neglected pets?
Zig and zag they went, darting
in tongues they spoke, undecipherable.
How they vexed me, left me blue-fingered -Going back the line six of the poem, this means you had their blood on your hands here. I wonder if you could play around with that idea more?
blue-thumbed and humbled.
Their sweetly etched  14 carrot toes kicking page
after crumpled pages to the trashcan; -This is nice personification that every poet/writer should be able to relate to. 
pissing Prussian over white heavyweight vellum.
They died and in their death throes turned me...

Have you met my Biro? -I like how their death "turned" the speaker onto a different type of pen. Nice ending.

I had to work a bit to get the meaning here, and that actually made me appreciate this poem more. Overall, I like the main idea here. I just would suggest extending the metaphor of the pens as neglected pets.

Cheers,
Richard