The day slips,
as a loaded grin
full of chalk and vodka-
salt as vulvas,
portal de nada no vīta
non compos mentis
excavator of,
el chico de la sangre
bathory on tap
countess of ascetic vestments~
role-calling
the addicts in her attic
stretched statues
as a static statute.
magnus- is ichor’d milk
dipping the curl
on her lip of feral~
caucused,
as wights of oil
in valerian catechisms.
her triangular incision
dangle inscriptions
of infant consiglieri's
ark dented tattoos
of Lilith’s cleanse
coronated as a
cloned commission~
as gulls of guf
deliveries-breach.
where ayenbite of inwit
spins a planchette,
planting an acre of acumen
inside of blackened whispers.
pocketing the fury
in a seppuku’s ripple;
as children bleed
napalm prayers
in a cesarean purgatory.
that place
of hugs and gallows.
Where
does the agape
~live?
chew down these
hemlock plosives
as nourishing sibilants~
when this plain
gives only lyres of flesh
wearing pearls
hand picked
by minions of Lethe.
careening
along her scream
as a scratched
in-utero gleam-
screened;
all is I,
~avarice.
spent like
treaded beacons
on a shoreline-
rinsed as refurbished
rebukes;
in the sputum notch
of a sutured staircase~
rise in diagonal stasis
rest as glisten
on that Eucharistical spiry,
all falls
as a called it,
~into you.
around your sting
traipsing in your aura.
a raped syntax,
glimmers as legion~
chiseling down the ingots
in a synapse void;
that alabaster altar,
gallops ahead to clout
suffrage is held
by daemons of marble,
wearing crimson
like a cloak
of distich-
another ember
tap dancing
deaths respire~
as collateral.
All Rights Reserved.
-
Author:
Nomadic bard (
Offline) - Published: September 12th, 2026 18:19
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 2

Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.