Short Vined Poems

They walk in tired circles
	paved down into vined-up sandstone
		clawing at the humidity
			fighting the ghost of evil
				that haunts the world today
					but nobody believes them
so nobody cares
						and they’re all dead now
	so who cares?
...

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A garden unattended 
is a woman abandoned


Grass growing unruly 
her hair untidy


Petals dried out 
manicure urgently needed 


Dry stems and twigs 
chapped lips and dry skin


Weeds vined and entwined around trees 
ingrown toenails and coarse heels on feet...

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Cabin hidden-
vined by years of growth
like memories collected in my head
nestled in the woods
away from civilization
a world all my own
one with itself
a yearning to be free
wanting to be alone
taken back in time
when living off the land
showed independence
when life was calm
and i was young
overlooking  scenic lake
while eating fish and fries
at the age of 15...

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Her vined plants strangled her in her sleep
We knew it might happen, she sleeps so deep
Only ninety-nine, one of the cousins said.
We felt bad too that our young grandma was dead.

Ninety-nine is not that young said the doc.
To say it was the plants is kind of a crock.
Women at age ninety-nine often die in their sleep.
We stopped talking to this imbecile, he was a creep....

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Down the road is a place, 
of a graveyard with vined-up gates 

As two lovers, they stand and wait, 
to bring others to their fate 

His domination, chained by his side, 
yearning to unleash what they hide 

Bound together amongst their rot, 
bodies entwined in a knot 

Gruesome acts, which they commit 
no one escapes their deadly grip 

While he feasts on human flesh, 
she grins and drinks from their neck 

They come together in the night, 
damnation for all, before daylight...

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