Married To A Monster

not the kind you think of
when the word presents itself

there hasn’t been gifts
or flowers
or cakes

no declarations of love

I am veiled in quicksand
my ankles stolen
right from underneath me

A preacher speaking “blah, blah, blah, God” ….
and all that stuff

my dear family and friends
gathered around me
laughing

a single dove laying on
an altar
plugged into oxygen
plastic wrapped for perfection
suffocating

the caterer
with the smile of a thousand devils
reminds me to pay my bill

tonight we roast the dove

Doctor, Tell Me

I am going to be. Here,
in a sticky womb,
a living room made for
madness; a sautéed fanciness.

The feast is being set,
just above the chandelier,
they call me by number,
my tattooed slumber calls.

White isn’t always padded
or strapped. Most likely
it only surrounds
the dark blue ring
around the sunburst I look at.

I think I am a painting.
Rembrandt is too gross, but
Picasso, he is enough mystery
to create me.
Half of me sprawls across the cold,
I wait for night-watch to
twist me back to form.

The other girl squats in the corner.
I smell feces and antifreeze.
Do I dream? Can I dissect the fumes of
the dead?
Her charred body crawls toward me,
she removes her teeth.
Everything glitters like a shadow.

Then, I am here. In the morning.
It isn’t the sun that tells me,
but the number, tattooed to
my skull.

Doctor, tell me, has Picasso gone home?

This Life And Thereafter

For every one I have killed, I have killed the heart of two,
and taken the hand
of the most Sinister Man – his Red Blood has turned mine Blue;

and, no, I did not whisper under breath, or breath into his ear,
I simply looked through
a man, maybe two, who’s soul had smothered in fear.

I am satisfied! I am satisfied, as I swim throughout their ashes.
I feel their bones,
their dangerous undertones, then my Blue blood flickers and flashes.
Now, I know I am Queen of Sinister things;
this life, and, thereafter!

My Heavy Boulder

I’m stuck in this…..nothingness.
The devil tucks me in
at night. I sleep with cannibals.

I am an apple core. Pigs food.
Where did my blood come from?
I am just a trick.
I do not exist.

My sweat is black magic.
I am invisible.
I am air particles and
part of the walls.
I am seams in the carpet.

A blue moon today
is sad sand tomorrow.
My body is borrowed,
taken by the Mexican gun
and his man.

I am abandoned.
I have abandoned this sickly,
trapped in infected placenta.
A dark traveler between
thought and matter.

The water is cold here
but I am colder.
Death is coming.
He’s tied around my shoulders.
My only friend.
My heavy boulder.

Seas Of Insanity pt 1

Faintly nights
sail me out to bad seas

where phantom mermaids
sprout silver razor fangs,

the evil legion
of
uncertainty.

They breed for war company,
not companionship.

My body floats through a
blurry
night vision,

disarranged,

my color changes to corrupt
as
salty thin waves shift
to fit
a temporal sea.

These are MY waters!
Taken by vicious fish women
who
slant
unstable nets
to the West way I wander in

my abducted waters arrest me
in mesh tangles and drag me
down,
down deep,
to the bottom of the bad sea.

It is here where I find them,
or they find me,

sick ghostly’s with their guns
and their sabres,
with their sick hats and masks.

I find them in mirrors, metal trays,
window glass, silver spoons,
lurking as gauzy shadows

at the bottom of the mad
seas,
bad seas,

They are women,
stringers
and
scribblers,

jumping from balconies,
blasting out their brains,
taking madness away from themselves and
handing it back to me,

in fins
and ferocious teeth that finally drag me
away from the mad, bad seas

away from uncertainty,
from faintly nights

to meet
the first blush of the sky
over seas of insanity.

Wild Madness

as wild snow lay speechless
covering
his Mango Mini plot

a sleepless widow installed herself
nearby,
in her fresh candied madness,
purring away
with soft blue shivers

from deep in his part
of the Earth,
he sang up to her
and the woods sang
and the owls sang
and the black wolves sang

her moonstruck feet floated slowly upon
a snow belly ground
garnished with sympathy
dancing
with her entombed love

as wild snow fell, time grew
more cold

the beautiful relict
purring away in blue madness
while her sweet
charcoal mane lay in
wait
for The Eternal Voice

to call them both into frozen
lunacy
for always