they emerge from the wooded neighborhood ridge and fringe at dusk into breadth of lawn & limb. witchy chicks casting banter n bitchcraft. teenage dead end dreamers tipped in black magick lip gloss & glitter, their genderfluid familiars &/or wayward boyfriends apparate in the street pink cloud spinning wheel, & hawking bile. ****** stella smile. swallow a hex, send a snap, tongue along his neck promising to fold bodies before sunrise. the effervescent gasp of post-ritual clarity.
in the house, is a kid. a gig. the devil with a younger grip. & the kid thrills on a bit of the ol’ u l t r a v i o l e n c e. ****** videogames, ****** anime, ****** mayhem n melodic music. he is a conduit of dark energy. a pure blooded offering of the stone age/video age, mind in a kind of kaleidoscopic way. he is me. bred on televised bucket slime ceremonials.
she checks her purse. drugs & snacks & juul & a pretty dead bird. a daughter of delphi watching your kid. tending to him. trending him. popcorn smelling him, the texas chainsaw massacre on vhs just before bed. palace of teeth n twigs. just a short walk to the edge and then its bath time.
the demon version is grisly and cruel. the angel version is starry-eyed and adventurous.
to conjure some thing, at the cliff jumping. it was fun.
previously published in BlazeVOXMagazine http://www.blazevox.org/BX%20Covers/BXspring14/Coop%20Lee%20-%20Spring%2014.pdf
From this being I conjure mysterious games Like I can’t read your signs as I’m switching from lanes I’m blinded, insulted, and completely confused How could I ever let my good intentions feel used up and abused? I’ve held out my hand, lent you my ears, even gave you a shoulder My radiation was warm and open-hearted, but your heart kept getting colder The closer I bring myself, the more often I am hurt Expectations of a bond, has only brought my conscious to highly alert Of your games you’ve been playing, and crushing my pride For once just be selfless, just open up your eyes