Owe

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

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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

Time to spare

Simmering lakes of organ grinder runoff
Mixed with a pinch of slake lime effluent
Chemically chargrilled using mutagen centrifuge
Ethically sourced electric brain stimulation reduction
Suggested garnish: fresh scoffs from blood rentier’s pursestrings
As I wake from my death, vampire-like, proxy dead labour
I see three fans spinning in different orientations along axes
Hey, at least they have jobs
While I’m tasked with cataloguing the myriad, devilishly creative ways
With which my brain will extinguish before contracting fatalism

Charcandy rash

The sickness is within you, pick mess behest your sins do
It is true, you must best more than few beasts that sting you
Let dry heat drops wring you of grins from skin glue that flu inklings drew
What does that bring you? Salmonella pink brew, the shit from it grew
Ozone igloo, stem brain signal, mouthful meningeal bin stew

I am within the sickness, skin deep vantablack lipsticked pig mess
Sebaceous tears expulsion, benzene sweat emulsions, when mixed fluoresce
Skin liquid crystals titers, viral loads get lighter, mists possess
What do I bring us? Foxholes with lost crew, brain-heart shampoo, exist depressed
Sunscreen tumour balm, bloodletting via blood brain barrier, your mass grave snake-pit largesse

Terminus

Heavy shelling pokes holes in the well lit with enough room to expel spit
A prop to remind need to gallop when location hellish, cue to then split
Walls in rot rich, nowhere this spot lives, excuse me, are you lost adrift?
Slot for ends to slip in, the stop’s where it ends and begins, exit on blacklist
Facts gist, no address, no safe passage, zone established fenced in static
Glad to be passerby, sky dye, rip seam on reality’s fabric, blame it on traffic