prose and a poem from the year I don't remember

[DISCLAIMER: this collection contains dark imagery and metaphor, and mention of an anti-histamine medication being used as intended for an allergic reaction.]

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11-22-23

Kitsunetsuki Kintsugi

Slipped under youth's stunted fingernail,
shimmering anxiety and a festering wound,
free of bothers dismissed and swept assail—
neglect fry possession in servility groomed.

Drunken by blood of saints and creation—
cannibalism of indulged consumerist.
Unholy ghosts sharing communion—
spared autosarcophagy in Eucharist.

An abyss misled and made generous,
hounded saviours pack of divided helps;
shaking terrors for infliction ravenous, bubbling out in dizzying blissful yelps.

Twisted humanity made in his image,
violently born a trysted sycophant.
Agony's beautiful unfettered wreckage—
thriving triumph from perverted implant.

12-2-23

9pm #2 

There's no way that ink's coming off,
singes and purple staining everything—
momments low on spoons and a bit evil.

Today, I put together a fox's head
from it's remaining teeth outward—
studied animal anatomy for a sculpt.

Rifling through cabinet out of reach
a robed raccoon in search of Benadryl,
wonder you breeze through indignity.
I've grown stale tied by satanic thread—
building reconstruction by our teeth. 

[Untitled] 

Ghost town struggling over heavenly inferno
a haunted building ready to be condemned.
Cavalier for cocksure taken as a fixer-upper—
bringing others to help evaluate for repairs,
afterimages there are reactive to changes.
It still may be demolished for rot frame. 

9-26-23

From The Maggots Harvest We Grow

On Hel's road astride grim-horse of Sigarr—
following trail of the wolf's enemy.
Laid down on triad twisted ashen root,
blood's seat sat rotting in the wood—
blind guests compost for hungry life.
Three maggots—such delighted things,
well fed rune-caller eager for cocoon,
simple creatures wiggle in Loki's shackles.
Nidhogg sucking dew of deep wounds—
worm dripping venom from ears roots,
fury fearful in hosts of Midgard's roof.
Grub fully formed—the hard shelled whelp,
dragging ward drunk on drought of giants—
black beetle waiting patient with life net.