Salar de Uyuni

Floodlights fill the salt flats

the ground a mirror of sky,

a tablet from Mt. Zion,

clear glass, flamingos nest

rose splotches against silver,

cotton clouds bear stars aloft,

our whispers echo across the plain.

 

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My head is full of arachnids

my crown a widow queen’s

silk scepter in my innards

spider symbiosis, bound in lace.

 

Neurotoxins digest cells

I hang like spoils, enwebbed,

flesh liquifies, I grow putrid,

cooked like an egg in its shell.

 

Paralysis, convulsions,

sweat sheen over melting brow,

guts writhe and knot like ribbons-

I am a present for devouring.

 

 

Composition

wisteria

Whenever she writes, she goes there,

(the trellis hung with wisteria vine)

ink blooms onto vellum before her

she tangos with the nib of her pen-

smooth lines, like rolling waves

kiss the shore of the page,

calligraphy borne of her marrow-

she transfuses plasma to pad.

Stains of blood run with malachite,

and she is no earthly being

ethereal, her tears paint the paper,

saltless and sweet as spring rain.

Her words, when they come, are voluptuous,

fat with beauty, so free,

they curve like stars cast from heaven

smashing to notebook inflamed.

She sets strange infernos with prose-

her poems linger, like ash

on sylph breeze.

I bask in the flow of her poetry

the matrix of couplet and verb,

and enticing, she lures me to ponder

the coconut call of her song.

 

 

 

Influenza

Gasmask Angel by xmenoux

Salt flats writhe with serpents

woven ankles, matted hair

cytokine storm, infection inflamed

He hoists me up like the plague,

I am Israel’s accuser,

temple pillars all fall

a lysis of faith.

Virulent angels flock round the pious,

Delilah’s flu song lures Samson to sleep.

The pathogenesis of Abraham spans gospels of days

etched in amino acids, David’s DNA,

my fever burns agape, fatal as the cross,

look upon me, Lord-

I am Jesus’ phage,

your son, a Trojan horse,

Demiurge, lysogen.

Saints crowned with pustles,

leaking my name,

virions borne of manna,

sickness my bread-

hung from Sephirot,

a crown gall under bark.

I am cancerous, truly,

my telomeres snapped,

a mutagen of God’s Word-

Samael – carcinogen,

emperor of all maladies,

wretched king, apoptosis.

 

Black Hound Blues

December is rough as geodes,

all smashed quartz under

hammer moons.

 

He smiles like a traitor,

breath like cognac,

lips Arctic cool.

 

With hair as thick as storms,

dark as the bowels of mines,

beard a net for eels-

braided tempests in keratin.

 

Cruising down I-95

with a band of rebel days,

from shadow bar to

scuffed motel,

in between-places,

December reigns.

 

Brandy on the rocks,

a faded Harley, cherry slice,

he rides the black hound blues,

roaring into Yule.

 

Logs burn beneath his tendons

crushed mint, mistletoe spice,

a string of Christmas lights

strangles his antlered crown.

 

Hang him, hang him like Odin

from the ecstasy pine tree

choke him hoary with iceglow

deck his halls with LSD.

Forget-Me-Nought

Forget Me Nought

Hydrangeas burn blue, and your acidity

still eats at my carrion limbs.

(Barbed wire wit, a tongue like glass

blooming brains on the pavement cracks,

I cut myself on apostles, kiss Judas lips.)

 

You were always the blackened disciple,

so quick to pass over the lambs.

You sought lions and bled them dry,

ripped aorta from tiger-flesh.

 

Wild messenger, mad messiah,

you carried me in arms like sleep,

carved gospels into milk skin,

flower fractals, I danced on your spear,

impaled myself upon amygdala,

lay down in the ruin of your words-

 

you brought legions to their elbows,

neck deep in paralysis, splatterpunk,

rocked the ages with a staff of serpents,

charmed Goliath and stole Midas’ touch-

 

How could I not love the riddle of you?

The cool persuasion of your spinal tap?

The melody of your manacle drag?

 

All dolled up in ash, like charnel ground Shiva,

you cast stars to divine the Ohm of my resistors

but found only fractured wires, and broken necks,

for the truth is I am asphodel before you,

in a field of forgetting, neck-deep in Lethe.

 

Oh Hades of my Solomon songs-

let me be the Kore of your temptation apple,

the blueberry blush of your sins,

confess, confess your idols-

I will smash them like pillars of salt.

 

(My mournful wind will spice you,

with spikenard and ichor and gold.

My psalms will forever entice you,

anoint you with crushed graves and mold.)

 

(Come to me, embrace me, my sage one,

taste the dandelion seed of my song,

crush me, consume me, my sweet one.

Will you ravage me bruised, blooming bomb? )