There is a moon stuck inside the stoplight
A still unblinking gaze controlling blood tides
Circulatory system like New York City in the seventies
The thrashing of my tire fire heart led
To the tribute of an overzealous blood tithe
With the buzzing of the latch relay circuit
Night and day, the cosmic light switch clicks
Itself into place, there is no dusk or dawn
We are burdened to tread in the interchange
We are a gathering of werewolves, in need
Of a blood moon, craving catharsis and hope
There is no time to pencil in a reverie
A daily scene, like a living nightmare
Turning us into cybernetic lycanthropes
Laminated libidos
Liquidate lovelorn longings
Lunar Lycanthropes
A SMALL REQUEST
She won’t go into the woods alone
afraid of the trees and what they might say;
the telltale trunk cannot be trusted
to keep the secret of her lover,
how she cut him open then stealthily walked away.
Those were long days, impossible lives,
truth is the sunrise, not to be denied.
Between starlight and the moon
no pleasure withheld; victims of fate,
the tragedy of circumstances.
The white pines howl and the birches bark
madly but never a word was spoken.
Everybody has a bone to pick, my friend,
we’re all just big ole dogs in the end.
Lycanthropes to the full moon.
The day bludgeons night bruising the sky
but his heart is left with the black eye
and by his I mean mine and now that it’s out
silence is filled with unspeakable sound.
Thunder is memory in a distant song.
She loved the woods like another child,
The ground so moist and the air so wild.
On the rocks is where she came alive,
Grass on her knees, smoke in her eyes.
Reborn as the sunrise.
Back to the trees and the secrets held
And the purpose of this pitiful discourse,
I’ve come to my one small request;
not the Master of your heart, at least,
let me be an occasional guest.
vibrant
aphrodisiac
glowing
in
the
sky
larger
than
life
promoting
carnivorous
copulation
where
most
romantic
couples
find
an
excuse
delusional
lycanthropes
find
them
too
screams
of
ecstasy
outshined
by
screams
of
violent
gnashing
terror
the
sun
rises
regardless.
An age old battle
Vampire code of conduct
Waging war on the wolves
Against the lycanthropes
How strange it is to see
A sense of diplomacy
A young raven haired boy
Turn into a man
Joining them
Into an indestructible clan
Together in harmony
There is now no formidable enemy
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