Enterprise Diary
Up from the floorboards
Creeps green heat.
It seeps under my head
Through a hole in the sheets.
It blankets the windows
And shadows the ceiling.
It licks at the lampshades
And spawned my skin peeling.
Into the cupboards
Comes a noise.
It mangled the marshes
With three lecherous ploys.
It danced with the Devil,
A bystanding Lasher.
It curdled the saintly
And dubbed the dead masters.
Down from the spiderwebs
Slide warm hands
That pull at the fabric
That had once been their bands.
They fondle the willing
To dawn a dim future,
To center sensation,
And parent new squalor.
Out of the fire
Sickness calls.
It drips to facade me
Thoughout winters and falls.
In through the Underpass
In a sick, silent prose
Two magistrates and I
With my eyes half way closed.
Copyright © Samantha Mcdougal | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment