Fetid water
Restless slaughter
Twisted trees
A list that reads :

1,Gather up the bodies bare
2,Singe off all the excess hair
3,A little trim and stitch here and there
4,One fine coat fit to wear

Sitting his dark swamp hut
An artist down to every cut
The finest leather on the ****
Carefully pulling each hem shut

A sob and rattle from a cage
Ah,a new victim young in age
We don't know how they ended up here
But id like to make it very clear

That once you stumble into this place
No escape,reprieve or grace
This is where they always perish
So keep away all you cherish.

it seem there is a gardener in that village,

that will not prune, will cut every shrub

the same.



shape.



if a walk takes you slowly round.



the village.



you may see every place

he works.



someone said you need

a day out to find some

inspiration.



for verse.



sbm.

drinks and cusses like a sailor
holds her own with
spiders in the shower
makes her own breakfast
cleans the dishes she uses
spends her money at Dollar General
likes cats and dogs
drinks whiskey and smokes ***
so my beer and ******* are all mine
has a trimmed  heart above her *****
and only one tattoo
a heart on her left breast
no metal in her thing
a dad and mom that she still
talks to
an ex who pays child support
children who are almost
perfect little saints
who is not afraid to
put me in my place at times
likes Baseball
and once wrote a dissertation
for her PHD about the differences
between Socialism and liberalism
and drives a Vette.
A 1988 Chevette!
I knew her a
long time ago.

Only one little
               silly tiny
                       movement
can create ripples
of effects
and tonight
as I reached for the
garlic or salt
or whatever
the hell it was---
something harsh was set
I brushed your shoulder
or was too much in your space
somehow jolting your ego
from its permanent, fragile place
            You chose to take that
and make a fight
from dust
and this in turn led
to splitting hearts
              spitting corrupted trust
passive aggressive silt
swept out
from under rugs
emotional bluntness of punches
instead of the realness of hugs
Where have we reached
what have we done
All I know
is my heart's on
        the run
These little ***** triggers
       can open
Pandora's sick, dark box
unlocking old resentments
from behind rusty locks
"You will never be forgiven"
are words
that destroy
they suffocate and choke
turn real gold to alloy
and Man, this gold is melting down
running in streams
painting false this town
in shades of hurt
in shades of pain
just lay me down
in this thick desert sun
to bear this unbearable
                   splintered strain
Let me pour this liquid burden
into the salt of the cracks
of the earth
Let me be replenished
with crystal water coolness
as I, head held up in tears,
                           remember
                                    my golden worth

youre just a **** up*
a nothing
a no one
no one cares
she didn't really love you
just one cut
just one
Shut up
do it
Shut up
there. Like that
No
good
No
*good girl