Wednesday 1/19/2011 01:19:00 AM

service the monsters. they are your only friends. measure the fangs on the wolf. learn. how deep its bite can go.

empty nightgowns search for the child. as her frantic footprints smear the blood. a kaleidscopes of conditions. better suited to zippers than to fists. a trail of red. in a blue world. the heavy of hte purple weighs me down. their metal teeth begin to open and all her insides fall out. meat on the table. for anyone's fork.

predators, like angry algorithms. finding. all the secrets. the girl in her ragged pajams. still closer than I am to the key. the sour confection that would let us out.

the molten candy of her thighs. deep enough to drown. the puppet under her skin. still dancing. long after the music has failed.

deaf villains. all their bombs defused.

and me. with no one left to blame.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2016. All Rights Reserved.