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V L Bennett Jan 28
She was sensitive to
              the variations in air pressure
              that announced the advancing storm
Her fingers tingled
              when the salmon began
               their run back upstream
The tree buds bursting out
               green and green more generous
caused small tremblors
right next to her heart

Sometimes she would dance
through all the moon's cycles
feeling her blood ebb and flow
in tandem with the tide

Earth-fall and moon-rise
march in measured cadence
while her even breathing
echoes the song
V L Bennett Jan 28
That's what I like!!
Sittin' here on the floor
we speak of old friends long dead
put a name to the places
the peacefulview cemetary
thee city morgue
johnson's funeral parlor
ah, those were the days
when there was sunshine in abundance
and flowers beneath our feet
you said you'd be with me forever
when everyone else is gone
that's the way it has been
you've been with me for many years, my love
your eyes are open and I'm getting used to the smell
they'll never take you away from me, sweet one
V L Bennett Nov 2018
Comma kitty
you syntactical *****
drop your kittens down the well
dreaming a dilaudid nightmare
you word-*****
let go your
cat-gut screeching
I need a song
V L Bennett Nov 2018
I have a picture of a dark-eyed demon
taken while he was in the act of possessing me.
His sooty eyes flash atoms and electrons
spiralling orbits that encircle me
in his spell.
On the curve of his lips there lie
incantations and magic words
that lead me on deep into the dark forest
where witches and warlocks dance *****
around a leaping fire.
He watches me and I can see myself through
his dark eyes as I join in the magic circle.
My own eyes are squeezed tight
afraid of what is all around me.
But I see it all
through his strange sight.
Dark-eyed demon
teeth flash in the sullen night
as he smiles on me.

My demon comes to me in the nighttime
rattling my lonely bed
and I hear his howsl
echo through the empty house,
fearful cries that stir me to placate his demon-ness
with my willing sacrifice.
This one's for you, Da-chon.
V L Bennett Sep 2018
haunt empty mirrors
Pastel fingertips trace lipless smiles
eyeliners and mascaras circumscribe vacancies
These women do not suckle babies
They do not write books or poetry
They never read the editorial pages

Their husbands never get hard-ons
except when they *******
The women are glad
Their hair won't be rumpled
and the sheets won't be stained
They rise early in the morning
apply honeysuckle or springbreeze vaginal sprays
and polish their mirrors

When the windows of their houses melt
they turn up the air conditioning
When their men leave them
they shore up sagging *******
reclaim their virginity by its loss
practice pouts and pirouettes to perfection

The moon is their enemy
Another presidential election means
more wrinkles, more grey hairs
means nothing on TV
and they have to fold up
into themselves, a lonely
place where the mirror is the mind
V L Bennett Sep 2018
The Ice Man
has shattered eyes
shards of ice for his soul
his passions burn cold
no flame only pain

The Ice Man
cannot hold me
and will not let me hold him
V L Bennett Sep 2018
Cerise dyed her hair blonde
in a ***** running from a point
midway abover her eyes,
straight back, medially bisecting her head.
Why not? Her witchcraft encounter group
encouraged her to go for it
and certain signs suspiciously converged
on that particular crystal moment
when she saw the Frost-N-Glow
on the supermarket shelf.
A self-correcting anomaly  caused a bag boy
to stumble in aisle two as he hurried to the break room.
Three doors down at the drug store
all the pills rattled in their bottles
although nobody noticed.

After it was done, she soon tired
of twisting her hair into new directions
and out of boredom she
picked up her phone and dialed her own number, expecting some satisfaction in knowing that her phone was busy.
To her surprise, the call
went through.
It rang twice andwas picked up
by a young-sounding man
who acted as if it were his own phone he'd answered.

Of course, The cosmic Ga-Ga had
it all planned out.
True, he was often less-tham-subtle
but a brick wall was frequently
sufficient in closing off paths of chance
and more sure than a feather duster. Very few feather dusters have stopped a man
from keeping an appointment that set
his path in life.
This was all The Ga-Ga's job.
Lost car keys, premonitionary dreams
some days he had to search long and hard
for just the right number of Sunday drivers
to let loose on Monday morning rush hour.
It was no easy job.

Cerise ended up at city hall, shouting about the monsters
in the walls. Her job was
not easy either.
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