Liar.
How goes the Hunt;
how flows the acid you spit daily from your White mouth?
How roils my vitriol through your weak constitution?
Had I the power to take off your head--
I would not.
I want you to rot from the core.
Olive skin, scalpel'd smile, sculpted hands
(and oh-- how they held me, how they spoke and caressed)
blackened; cracking; hammer-shattered and bleeding.
Spare me your syrupy demon venom,
spare me the denim (your silken sheets)--
leave me to mourn the death of your Soul--
Liar.
Can you feel panic in your synapse-fire;
my message racing its way up your spine,
to your brain,
to the place where a conscience should be?
O sentient being?
My breath rolls out from me.
Does it seek you, or some other thing;
to set the air to boiling,
or to meet with the breath of a machine
which runs
day and night:
factory of lies, sighs only half-promised
and dreams that may never have been?
I see the answer in your milky stare.
Liar.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
throttle
my rattling brain to rubber
my caterwauling soul to ember.
limber
are my limbs akimbo
battling to breathe the gutt'ring light
that goes squalling, careening cacophonously
of your futile timbre;
slewnsevered is your member.
slender
are your hips,
narrow'd is your vision-- and your lips
((quiver)) quest for their home;
seek to rest upon the loam.
I: Euphrates.
draining
me art thou:
my Homunculus.
I am not ill; no
breeze sailing
through these shell casings, mine
protocell skeleton
hallways:
vacant, no-thing here.
throttle
adder riddled, ritalin addled,
my veins are brittle,
scalpel
me into Perfection.
rid me of this erection.
build me in Your eye;
build me into the Future.
my rattling brain to rubber
my caterwauling soul to ember.
limber
are my limbs akimbo
battling to breathe the gutt'ring light
that goes squalling, careening cacophonously
of your futile timbre;
slewnsevered is your member.
slender
are your hips,
narrow'd is your vision-- and your lips
((quiver)) quest for their home;
seek to rest upon the loam.
I: Euphrates.
draining
me art thou:
my Homunculus.
I am not ill; no
breeze sailing
through these shell casings, mine
protocell skeleton
hallways:
vacant, no-thing here.
throttle
adder riddled, ritalin addled,
my veins are brittle,
scalpel
me into Perfection.
rid me of this erection.
build me in Your eye;
build me into the Future.
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