#taxidermy
In the house they sit on the shelf
Never touched left alone
We sit there as they fix ourself
Ourself that is we
We that represent the clone
The clone of the wild
To look as if we are free
We who aren't mothers hold a child
The child isn't ours ours that we don't own
How I wish we could flee
Flee from the chains we are kept
Wishing we could go back to life
We who have cried and wept
Living this life as taxidermy
The menagerie is rife
We who have glass eyes and full of stuffing
Those they had found layed dead and left
A fur that had time spent repeatedly fluffing
These glass eyes can not shed a tear
Our lives that have been completely bereft
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 12:03 PM UTC
Jolly antlers
Curling happily like fingers do
Adornment of a stranger's imagination
Funny toothless braying
A beautiful accompaniment to the white rocks
"Ting ting"
The bell strung from your neck joyously speaks your odd truth
Tender plodding of new hooves,
The scabs of your retelling leave their own interpretation of your metamorphosis
You may be reconfigured
But you are complete
My little reindeer
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 12:26 AM UTC
Every poet is a fake
eyewitness, peddler of make-believe hearsay,
A conveyor of love he never knew
in a city he never saw in a way to make you
feel the passion as if it were true,
He is an air-brusher of reality,
Thus a proselytizer of the Absurd:
That you can paint pictures with words;
That you can travel by verbs;
That you can conjure nouns by saying them;
That you can lead several lives within your only one.
Every poet is a fake
taxidermist, seller of second-hand stuffings
of souls that were never alive
Every poet is a fake
imperialist, would be explorer-cum-colonizer
of the terra incognita of your mind
Every poet is a fake
poet
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 11:03 AM UTC
Taffeta watches the pigs atop the tables
Glass eyes and stitches where they're enabled
Guts pumping crimson liquid
Sewing 'em up, she's addicted
Family and friends recommend she withdraw
She responded with a twinkle in her eye and a dropped jaw
Scissors and string, that's all she'll need
Besides a corpse, of course, and a bit of stuffing
Lilac eyes affixed on a tattered pillow
Enjoying watching a weeping Willow
Her poor Porky pet has met his end
But everyone knows you can depend
Before your sweet pet starts to smell
On Taffeta's Taxidermy to stuff 'em well
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 4:29 PM UTC
Hanging on the wall, next to my bed post,
A friend of the forest looks surprised, most.
Oh dear, she did not hear the gunshot near,
Nor tree nor hill nor her fawn shed a tear.
Over there, the finest hair of the hare,
Cute and fluffy hopping into my stew.
It's seat is sweet and hard to beat I swear,
Though his hide is gamey and tough to chew.
A sow, a cow is how I eat for now,
I feast on the beasts with the finest meats.
Fresh flesh on my breath, fresh blood on my brow,
Slaughtered, like their daughters; fair market treats.
I feel nothing for these creatures I hunt.
Would you rather feast on the yeast they shunt?
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
He reached into the paper bag his friend handed over and pulled out a small picture frame.
“Do you want it?” his friend asked.
He turned it over carefully to see what was in the frame. Through the glass, he saw a beetle mounted in cotton, displayed along with a strip of paper that held its name. It looked like something good to have hanging in his room.
“Yeah, but why?” No one just gives away nice things. At least no one gives stuff away without a reason.
“Why, what?”
“Why are you just giving stuff away?”
“Oh,” silence, “I just don’t need it.”
It was a non-answer, a truism, something people say just to get people to asking questions without lying. That’s not enough, he thought. If there was anything he knew about his friend, it was that he liked to talk.
“Wait, so why don’t you need it?”
“Just take the whole bag. Maybe just give back the 3DS games”
He turned the frame around. There was a mark in the back, like someone tried to open it up with ballpoint pen that ran out of ink. Whoever made it gave up after one try but still managed to leave pinholes in the cardboard.
“Are you sure?”
“I think you’re asking too many questions for free stuff, guy”
He looked through his friend’s bag, wondering what else was inside. It was clothes, mostly, and ruffling through it wafted up a scent. The smell and the fabric, it was decidedly feminine to him. He had more questions, more thoughts to investigate.
A car, pulled over next to them. “My ride’s here,” his friend said.
He looked at the beetle. Its wing casings were a sickly yellow. He saw a few writhing brown dots come from under it. He felt sick. Maggots, he thought.
“Carlos,” he called out, handing back the bag, “I’ll keep the beetle”
His friend turned back, took the bag and left.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
rested, sealed in a cloud.
through the panes of my reflection,
she lay still. preserved,
at a point in time.
carefully, it was made
a heaven for her,
black, against the snow,
a delicate frame.
freedom, hers was sought
in a vain attempt,
too easily, given up,
it left a desperate mark.
made to cut her loose
unnoticed, beneath her.
her eyes looked forward,
unrelenting, yet absent.
my gift remains pristine.
faded, her elytra
are pale and sickening.
yellowed, they conceal
many writhing guests.
unmoving, she remains,
but a stranger to life.
a gift, she is,
rotting from the inside.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
I'm just a taxidermy with a soul
but I've seen foxes on display that look better than me.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Oh the fun we will have
Now that you're lying here
Paralyzed by my tea
You have nothing to fear.
Please, give me your wrist.
Now thats a good boy,
I'll tie you up nice and tight
So that you I'll enjoy.
Don't cry tears my dear
I promise you I won't leave,
Just need to get the duct tape
I don't want to hear you scream.
Oh dear this simply won't do
I need to take off your clothes
Now don't you squiggle too much
Or I might just bite off your nose
My darling you needn't be shy!
Your body's a beautiful thing,
I promise my hand will be kind to you
Since you were so kind to me.
Darling your pose is perfect!
Now is most definitely the time.
For what you most likely wonder,
To stuff you and make you mine.
Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
Everyone has their daily struggles
But with depression it's more than doubled
I rise each day to face the sun
But a part of me just wants to run
To hide away and lock the door
Or **** someone and settle the score
The wounds inflected on me I can not hide
You can see them all plainly on every side
They are apart of me, inside and out
I've been prey to many, and my trophy head they mount
In their memory of victims, I'm another count
They did it slow, they took their time, in no hurry
Then sent me off to the f**king taxidermy
They cleaned me up and stuff in the saw dust
But all you see standing before you, is just my crust.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
Everyone has there daily struggles
But with depression it's more than doubled
I rise each day to face the sun
But a part of me just wants to run
To hide away and lock the door
Or **** someone and settle the score
The wounds inflected on me I can not hide
You can see them all plainly on every side
They are apart of me, inside and out
I've been prey to many, and my trophy head they mount
In their memory of victims, I'm another count
They did it slow, they took their time, in no hurry
Then sent me off to the ******* taxidermy
They cleaned me up and stuff in the saw dust
But all you see standing before you, is just my crust.
Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 8:09 PM UTC