Corpses Climb Poem, by Tristan Robert Lange, at My poetic side

One, two, three, four, five, six stictches

Sewing up the lips of ditches;

Moths rolled in balls and put to flame,

Singed wings whisper a macabre name.

Ten tied up—seven laying down—

Spiders weave their tactical gown.

Flesh-o-Filet, stripped of its bones,

Our lives are ghosts wailing in moans.

Four and five, six, seven, eight eternal,

Infinitity is ever infernal.

Worms submerged in God’s tequila—

Consumed—a swig of vanilla.

Twenty horses fall down a wall

With twenty-five wolves standing tall.

Cardigan covered corpses climb

The caverns of this cruel lifetime.

First published on tristanrobertlange.com, February 16, 2026.

Tittu

Author: Tristan Robert Lange ( Offline)
Published: February 16th, 2026 07:46
Comment from author about the poem: I’m published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
Category: Unclassified
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