Once upon a time
Not so very long ago
I was wishing upon a star
Watching Mary's lamb
With down as white as blow

I laughed at Country Boy Eddie
For hours it must have been
We'd been up all the night
Indulging in our sin

They said we were full of crime
I said we were doing time
They were about to leave
Until I made another line

We laughed at Country Boy Eddie
For hours on an end
Daylight came creeping in
It was time to make amends

If you every saw the flick
"Once upon A Time In The West"
It was a western made
Perhaps it was the best

Brutal man can be
unlimited it seems to see
For Country Boy Eddie was laughing now
And he was laughing back at me

All the laughing stopped
There in the morning mists
It was a time to collect the debts
And sadly were they ever ******


There would be no tomorrow
No more credit would they let extend
An eye for just an ounce
See how far the bones will bend

A life for no more than a pound
A bullet between the eyes
From the boys that
Wear perpetual frowns ,
"It's time to say goodbye!"

There was no more laughing
Except on the TV screen
Country Boy Eddie was hee-hawing to himself
The morning now serene

Soiled streams, that never
           find a mouth to taste
upon the nectar of life's nourishment.

Seeping like pure tears of loss,
             but life doesn't drink only.
             Neglected and stale stains linger.

Nourishment of a soul only
                          echoes the loss,
   never needing life's bounty.

I don’t need sugar or vinegar to
Entice you to drink my cup of poison
I am a savior, a black widow, who
Lures you to my dark web, disguised as the sun
I am a chameleon who changes
To satisfy every need, until you
Can’t live without me, no matter how strange
You’re my new toy.  I will give you no clue
To the pain I will inflict with pleasure
Not only will you love my deadly poison
You will crave its taste as if it’s treasure
Yes, your pain pleases me beyond reason
So, come and ******* darkness, it will be
Beyond imagination. You will see!

Kelly Rose
© March 23, 2018

When I walk towards the dog lying in the gutter his eyes follow my every step.

Eyes blue like hard candy. Lips curled above white fangs
smile at me with a smirk of someone who has awakened
from a bad dream.

I think I hear him sigh and as I kneel beside him, his cold eyes catch some light from the pulsating Drum Bar sign.
"What do you see?" I ask. "What can you feel?"

Inside the bar the clatter of billiard ***** and muted conversations. I order a shot of bourbon and as I put the bourbon to my lips I hear the faint sound of claws on wood. The dog trotting across the ***** floor jumps on a barstool next to the fireplace. His lips are contorted tightly above its teeth and his eyes pulsate red light. After staring in disbelief the impossibility of situation dies. His eyes flash quickly several times. He seems to know me.

I order 2 shots of bourbon and walk over to where the mutt was sitting. He is not there and I'm beginning to wonder if I have imagined the dog when I feel something ice cold rubbing against my leg, I look down. The mutt winks at me. I crouch down to put the glass of bourbon in front of him. Then I touch my glass to his.

"I've learned to moan without making a sound. " I tell my friend as his stiff tongue stubbornly licks up the bourbon.

He slowly turns his big, ****** head towards me. "Out of the lowest," his hoarse voice rasps, "the highest reaches his peak."

I squat down. Cautiously I stroke his head. He growls but it is not too menacing. It becomes more like a contented humming. The faster I caress the louder the droning becomes. His eyes dilate and I become mesmerized watching them grow from a warm yellow radiance to a terrifying hot white.

And with a vicious snap the dog sinks his teeth into my hand.

I **** my hand loose. Quickly I stand up and punt kick the little ******* into the fireplace. My wounds are deep but bloodless. A cold numbness travels up my arm, into my chest, and down to my toes.

And just when I 've lost all feeling I begin to burn. The fire spreading within me unearths fragments of my life I barely recognize. The words I never said and laughter echoing in an empty room.

The fire is burning me from the inside out, so no one knows how I feel. Instead, I stare at the dog in the fireplace as steam rises from his head. His eyes flash at me three or four times.

I give him the finger.

When I walk into the poolroom, I put quarter on the table. It is a crowded room of tired faces unable to radiate any light of their own.

"The fire has consumed me. The true believer of snow and sad faces, I am a shell."

I am confused, frightened. I hear the words as if they are my thoughts. But then across the room hidden in a dark corner I discern the silhouette of the mutt. His eyes are shut but I can faintly see his subtle smile.

It's my game so pretending as if nothing has happened I select a pool stick. A tall man in a leather jacket comes over and tells me it is his game.

we argue.

And the dog's voice groans, "No matter what you dream it'll end in ashes or ice. Hit him with the pool cue." The pool stick heavy in my hands. The next thing I know I'm slamming the pool stick into the man's face. Blood gushes from his wound. People rush from the shadows. Hands grab me. Punch and kick me. I'm dragged to the door and tossed into the gutter.

Semiconscious, sometimes dreaming, I roll over and face the dog. Its eyes now dim but unyielding. From the shadows someone comes behind me, I try to roll over to see the voice but cannot.

"What does this world consist of?" The voice whispers into my ear. "Empty lots, a dead dog, and visions of the night."

they know
where tobacco grows
and why I
forgot to put down the pants
I heard
the drowning underwater
I afraid
whether the outer limit
gets closer
I never
put any elbow
in it
to play with water
to add some fire
and as a last caress
against the dark halfdom of space
I'll do my best
watch celestial bodies
and say I've seen it thousand times
I ought to guide you
toward necropolis
because I have two missed calls
both yours

For a long time
I've been dreaming
of being the younger me
my heart leaning
into those dangerous places
like the wheels on a road grader

Nights to remember
seeing big lips in the moon
blowing its black and bad sax

Dreams of night sweats
and my lost loves
dancing in the fields
where the moon, a white cow
goes to chew her cudd

Dreams deep in other cities
and towns where photographs
all signed love are slipping
out of the frames of many mirrors

Dreams of an old soured pillow
waiting for its case to be called
shanghaied by the cold sea
a long ways from the mountains
where I once found young love

Dreams of a storm coming
still many miles away
hearing the wind in the trees

The thunder wakes me
like a backfire on a moonshine
run with two trembling fingers
finding me riding shotgun.

I had been dreaming
about eating bruised peaches
that grew from a tree
by the river, its water
thick and sweet as sap.

I thought I saw an old woman
shaking her dustmop,
but it was only the moon
and stardust in the dark
that never stops.

In the fields
there was something barren
like a journey
and echoes of salt
sprinkling on a table
with food laid out for a wake.

The fog from the dream
by the river was smothering;
I was suffocating lying there
where it is said a young mother
once walked into the water
with the pockets of her dress
stuffed full of smooth rocks.

I woke when I heard
shouting that tore out the light
as night came flying by
like a bird dressed for a feast
wearing his finest black feathers.