the dotted eyes—
red luminescence
in horrid technicolor—
were there...hanging.
there.
stapled. stretched lids
crossing the stipes—
a patibulum of flesh.
why?
he jokes—
next to his wife...
his little daughters—
that though he ordered
he could,
undressing me,
still LOOK
at the menu.
naturally,
i nodded
as if i agreed.
then watched him
bleed.
fulfilled the need
to staple his eyes
above the listing of
disco fries,
now offered at a
discounted rate
if you order
off the bloody menu
late.
Part of the Darklings collection.
© 2026 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
First published on tristanrobertlange.com, October 30, 2026.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Online) - Published: October 30th, 2026 10:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Welcome to New Jersey. Girls don’t fuck around here. Side of disco fries with that? On another note, did you know I composed an original score for F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens? Released in October 2022 for the film’s centennial, I invite you to treat yourself to this oldie with a new haunt.
- Category: Gothic
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
- In collections: Darklings.
Online)
Comments1
Nicely written. Your poem reflects on the unsettling nature of a man who, despite engaging in a horrific act, maintains a facade of normalcy by joking with his family and ordering food.
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