He has two heads.
I don't count the one below,
as some would call it;
I mean two on his shoulders.
One is for lure.
His mouth breathes love and fantasies,
caressing with words of nurture.
The other is to ****.
That mouth breathes toxins, poisons,
rotting you slow from the inside out,
still leaving you to feel loved.
This is just how he is,
wandering around with two heads;
And the body of a snake.

Every time
I look at you
I know it is
the worst ever
feeling to have
in this world.
It is worse than
having a tyre
punctured on
the road
in the middle of nowhere
and being kicked
out from the boat
in the middle of nowhere
you are stuck
in a glass box
you did not
built it
and someone else
who thinks
they are superior
built it for you.
I wish I could
hug you
kiss you
and bring
you somewhere
without further
ado.
All you can wish
is just to be free
not just another
commodity.
It is better to be dead
on a natural cause
outside
than being stuck
in somewhere and
feeling lost
inside.

Feline oh my feline.
Nothing wins, nothing ever wins.

In animal death, a breath of relief
Tunnelling through the airways for one last
Sigh of non-defeat, of exaltation and release
Not to be, or better, to be free of mortality
Made immortal with passing life
Taking strife by the neck and repeating

I am no longer your victim

In animal death, a universal strength
Where no obstacles lay before happiness
And instincts are not policed
Your fanciful dreams of green treats, fulfilled
And failing kidneys can rot as they please
Please, shed only a handful of tears
On the graves of decomposing beasts
Released from the shackle of domestication,
For the ones that suffer are surely the living.

Soft grunts of morning love
Anchoring down the blankets
Rolling over begging you
Pet my belly

I remember it so well,
We were talking about spirit animals.
I was expecting you to scoff, because most boys do.
But you didn't.
In fact, you loved it.

You told me all about your friends,
All obsessed with spirit animals.
I asked you what you thought yours was
And you looked me straight in the eye
And said 'A deer.'

A deer? A deer!
Oh, I can't explain how much the thought of you
Having a deer as your own spirit animal
Made my own heart soar.
I never knew how much I loved deer as a species
Until that day.

Thinking back on it, of course it's a deer.
You have such a majesty and grace about you
But such an awkward, all over the place side as well.
You move with caution, eyes unsure of what's to come
But also move so freely in your natural habitat.
Just as long as you're not caught in the headlights.

Ever since you said 'deer' to me,
My heart just soars at the thought of it.
How can a person be their spirit animal?
**And I have loved deer ever since.

Let's give tribute to our vets,
Best diagnosticians yet,
Can they mend a broken wing?
Yes, and most other animal things,
The pets don't know what's wrong,
Vets say, "It won't take long,"
Animal healers are the best,
Mute animals get healing yet!

Run away, my love. Just run away
with me. We are animals, lost
in bite marks and desperate visions
of bleak futures where you are no
longer here to light up my skies
with your starlight. My limbs are lost
to your touch, my mouth empty
as you breathe me in. I am
human only when you observe me.
There are no skull shaped prisons
or cries of terror, only
the sound of laughter ringing
like the songs of lost
birds in the night,
longing and true.

There was a small frog
Splayed out on a zoo log
Its name was something-dog

I think it was dead
It didn't move its head
Nor blink its eyes instead

It was kinda cute
Though in death it was mute
So a picture of it I did shoot

A girl my age shoved past
Looked into the foggy zoo glass
To see the amphibious class

She called it lazy
Said the frog was **** ugly
Then left to see cuter things

Dead or simply asleep
Cute or a slimy creep
Who thought about frogs so deep?

Riding this horse past oblivion

feeling wind shout past

sharp shoulder blades

long hair whipping strong

grinding both thighs

into these browning flanks.

This horse is built from

sticky pecan sugar

such spice sprinkled

and dusted whilst the rider

flits past us stream like

arrow fringes near the cusp

all harrowing and musky.

Horse of caramel and nuts

sticking together like childish

tar painted gold and copper

colors shining past in rounded

muscles as the horse pushes

through the gulch he glances down at us with coal inlaid eyes as rough as sandpaper against raw wood

trying not to get caught up

in sliced splinters but careful now

before the horse of brown mud

runs us down trampling us to

wet ****** pulp so wait until

he has settled down to sleep

and then we can climb the mountains by escaping his

cramped cave of dreams

which only reveals how tricky

slips can be.

There's a black cat

walking flat,

his back feet

dipped in

marshmallow droppings.

His tail flicks

like a reed in the swamp,

and he can't

help but run through legs

swiftly

hopping on furniture

daintily

belly all soft and white.

Silent is he,

catching the almost-full moon

in his bright whiskers.

Padded paws,

a black tail snaking

twitching as he

squeezes to rest

in tight spaces

wide eyes as green as

a kiwi fruit

with the seeds cut out.

He bats his toy freely,

ears up then

hears a rustle

at the screen door

and sits

transfixed

but only

for a moment.