Poetry

(a pantoum) Mary dug through her sundae, unearthing sweet bits,blind to oblique police-woman glances. Indifferent— archeological zeal? Blood, where her right hand rakedher captor’s corpse.Blind to oblique police-woman glances. Indifferent to fluid crusting red to brown to black, fromher captor’s corpse,drying, as she slaked her thirst and ate her first meal.Fluid, crusting red to brown… Continue reading Mary

There’s a grave in my pocket, a hole in my headPocket buries dreams, pride, and trust—While the hole swallows what cannot be named. I reach to remember—but then I forgetTrying triggers the shifting of colours,Spinning wheel—blurring, obscuring— What I saw, breathed, bled into the soil.It strikes between the lungs— Crimson rings my eyes—then burgundydrags mars… Continue reading The Hole in My Head

There is a man who speaks for the dead,Who listed the threes of dread:Air, water, food—Miss one and you’re screwed,He’ll weigh you and measure your head.

Blood red, myFingers dripWith wantingWhat runs away—So far.I chase you like aLike an owl. Quiet as the nightI swoop downHoping to catch youOnce more,Under the moonlight.We dance our—Last dance.Because tonightYou are caught—In me.And no matter how hard you fight,Claw or beg—You are just a mouse.And you cannot scream.Blood red, myFingers dripNot with my blood,But yours,… Continue reading Creature of the Night

There was a skeletal continuity to the greasepaint proceedingsin the battered copy of a copy Jobyna Theater on dropout Vaudeville Avenue, the feral homeland of late-blooming flower childrenand the stillbirth of muted trains.Shadows toned with silver salts capered asplucky shopgirl Clara Bow darkened her lipswith the memory of her mother’s madness,a thousand butcher knives forever… Continue reading Intertitles

The black velvet petunias eat away at your antipathy– sunless conduit flowers for unlit obituary candles, Drunk Tank Pink garnish of a burial shroud,

Leather-bound tatters Blood-ink maters to parchment Read atop an escarpment Fire-blue tines rape the sky On-high violations as Motivation for Necronomic Incantations, audible permutations Of flesh, veins, and hatred Eyes red with sound and fury Signifying there is no worry Of nine clouds of judgement  As Mephistical mystics Regurgitate cannibalistic  Fetid decay disguised as lyrics… Continue reading Grimoire