The grass isn't always bluer
On the other side
But tomorrow WILL bring with it
Greener skies
mmmmhmm

©2024

my devotee, i caress,
with gentle prowess, as their veins run with blood,
and i feel it beneath my fingertips,
a limitation, to my inner being,
as i take their chin, and lift it up,
gripping forcefully, in an attempt to break the skin
and feel the truth, in their worship
almost completely rid of their mind, but not their heart,
my acolyte, gazes up at me, smile framed by these fingers
i am supposed to call mine, awkward and useless,
until she came and found me, and suddenly,
everything living became vital,
and i could feel a pulse beneath my own skin,
beating and beating and beating,
endlessly enduring, a trait akin to my follower,
whose very presence has started to consume my thoughts,
a place that used to be mine only, and yet,
im willing to share, if it means i too,
can one day show them the truth in my divinity.

flood this forrest          
         like you forecast
and test how true      
         the treehouse i grew

.
and your mug shot's shining through
it's a vision true   (but the subject's taboo)
              all             ugly               here
morning sunshine    breakfast table    autumn cool
you're poised to speak   a fly lands on your lolling spoon    
then   i stand up merry                                      
i make my vital move      the table backs away  distressed
your eyes raise
   i flop open my faminous mouth   and let the fumes draw in
Surprise !
(no time for you to hold surplus breath -                             
- form an expression - make any objection)
              mechanism disjoints    like the raw riches
i whip the plumb weight of my head   and strike
mouth-chomp-grip   over your scalp
and i am working you in
with swift jaw shifts and hingery

i **** on you with a smile and gullet                                      
  (past photos of you   shuffle glaucous before my inner eye)
yap sock muscle   i operate   gumming on your head
(ours was the world ; we got so lazy)
budging in your hair   dampened by my saliva
(our timid first meeting at a bar)
and airway and my teeth softly folding back
(us in bed-us in bed-us-in-bed)
                                   and whole hog jaw agog
(the tourist we made as a couple)
i dilate and distend  crouch low to take your weight
(the rise and falter of your sleeping chest)
upend  your hands panic typing in the air        
(the eyes of your investment in me)
your feet flinging the heft back and forth   
    your shoulders break in and forward folding
my chest cracks and wells                            
(gifts we gave that touched heart and others that fell short)
a complete engulfing meal of you                
(your childhood antidotes and teenage feelings we discussed)
down my soft disposal                                  
   (all my memories of us in a fizz                                      
                         and all the inaccuracies)

...and then i head off to hibernation    
      ferrying an idea that ' i have you now '
           that   perhaps you were my enemy            
                                              a­ll this time
and i am digesting the beast
                      (what a feast !)

The less I say, the more you are around.
WT**** is that?
And when I talk, you disappear?

This thing called people.
It Is very strange.

I think I'll go to another place.
And not stay there, for it is space.

they prayed for rain                  (so tired   so drained)
they wanted relief   crops    and to relive   
                   through their supporting bulbous god
the rains came    and my body tightened with itch                      
                                  the chored limbs ached
flints of pain   ticked behind the eyes
but there was so much rain            and there was flooding
cause there were no trees   to root everything together
no absorption        
but much concrete to dictate the fast flow
and then it rained like blood  and people freaked
(it was only desert pigment or algae)     and then it rained fish
but there was too much to harvest  pickle and eat                                          
                   ­                 and spoil brought stench and plenty of flies
and then it rained frogs   that weren't able to polish off the flies
          cause they'd splattered with the impact  
and then...                                                                  ­           
the praying stopped   and the people plugged up their senses
and retreated indoors all puffed
                                 and angry and pathetic
and i went out for a walk                              
          solitary   except for the thriving carrion

What's gotten into me?
Well, it's spite silly
Despite a lack of a vacancy
Much needed for what's actually important to me

©2024

I don't care who it hurts
No ragerts

©2024