He didn’t think about her for a week despite the Manchester slags carping in the rental car lobby while their children disassembled democracy and the drumbeat of the universe tore the cloud cover razed the concrete like blackberry canes
way down the country where every meal is a tooth and gear monstrosity he sucked the stewed juices plants and animals that submitted their succulence then salted, boiled left to turn rancid he felt her congeal then slough off his bones
like the glazier said after cutting his throat there should have been pain so those many nights of jockeying barstools trying to catch floozies in a certain brown light that might mirror some of her own stripe of mania would have to stand in even if the blood on his shoes was invisible
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
Crush of holy hands on blue skin of a flame was the wet revenge of a withering rose. That defiant streak bursts with knowledge of a sin. White and black, this was me and my unwrapped flesh. Dirty glory of
Much can be said But we speak in hushed tones Curt with our responses Hiding behind the wall of vulnerability We hold our breaths in anticipation Who will be the first to crack ? Unsightly in the walls of protection
I see a place with starless skies. I see a dark smooth world endlessly a float in the black, its star long since blinked out. Covered with small closely spaced geodesic domes. Geodesic domes all interconnected, all with conduits leading
It happens so often, that i forget the coffin. Forget the existence of the end, when I’ll lay engraved beneath the land. Forget that one day i’ll be all alone, all that I’ve known, will be unknown At some moments