Throughout my life
The main fear among many
Was that I
Would lose control
And that my brain
Would be too far gone
To even recognize this
That fear still exists
As does my life
Yet this admission
Out loud
Only becomes a flaw
Vinegar for exploits
A wound ripe for picking
By those who want me
To bank up goodwill
To cash in
With gratitude
When all of this
Becomes routine enough
To survive me
And my fear


Cyst brewed concoction

A writhing lizard’s tail
Dancing to the tune
Of melodies made
By instruments used
To sever it
A rhythm which I just imagine
While someone else
Strings it together

The sound of the apple bite
Overlaid on the ovoid panflute signature
A character saying the word “issue”
Stressing the S into an aristocratic snake’s hiss
On a glistening green countryside matte painting
But standing on top rather than before it
As if only the players have switched
But the posture remains constant

Cello strings and hand saw
Roadrunner CEO of Acme
A throne with each peg
Deep in slit necks
Of bodies offered comfort unbeknownst
Rocks worn smooth with lymph
Watch your step
Might end up being heir of the throne

Sickly sweet smelling acid screwdriver
The medium of poison rain to paint upon
With dense millimeters of supercooled pigments
Longing for contact of a cold simmer
The hisses will be stored and repurposed
For the strung up throat lips mouthing notes
So that even when the scene is canvassed by inquisitors
We can laugh at them for falling for it

Honeypot skin shed

Speak ill of the dead
Bananas rotting in high speed montages
Septic tanks sustaining ecosystems
Triangular arches bearing loads
Tomb domes housing pigeon insurrections
You bring this shit, to my house?
Terraformed shards of moulted earth
Smooth it out
Blow-cool the rusted metals it touches
Until there’s a hole in each cheek
And I can finally fit in a lot
Cargo spikes tangled flesh grist stick out
A cheek puller’s dilemma
A coy boy iced cream packed mouthful decoy
Sinew hedgehog landmine
For want to tucking your soul in your skin,
good fucking luck

Bone ash flare

An ad for hell, well I need to soon price inquire
Paths paved this swell, knells deep, consume lies entire
Vat brains teach you, flag thought trains to reach through
Each track-mane-twist-screw, brag bought gains by breach accrued
Free range caged student, see deranged saint’s elated canes subdue them
Decree staged rage in truants, intrigue framed snake’s belated change to human

Anchor on oil spill

On the tyre swings under the desiccated trees
Where I first rammed with subterfuge
The lies I told to steal free drinks
Arrows fused with lumbar sections
Spread like exposed rebar fanning
Drinks mix with concrete & spinal fluid
As I bend down to pick up the pieces
And there is no way back to grace