Abora

meeting one of many gods

4/8/19 1104pm

 

i saw a man bash his own skull in

with the beater board i whittled out of soap

and soak in all it’s lovely concussion

stop remembering anything well

he thought he might win

 

and as his blood burst through his skin

not caustic enough to survive

he laughed a jolly belly full of tacos

and beer caps

and preached of higher sin:

 

“behold these bones,

i am sultan coal,

deadly and drole,

dead in the eyes,

i hear your cries

and bellow out moans!”

 

he swung a tankard

as he gave his sermon

tottering forward

and backward again:

 

“drink mightily with flies

insects and hives,

you’ll look great all splotchy

you could be so naughty!”

 

and great columns of sulfur in air

it feels warmer

but hotter too

like i can taste the burning

my mouth turned to glue

 

“i’ve given you the gift

of sludge-tongue, young swift

now use it for good.

if you can’t talk at all,

do you really think you should?”