a carcass is moving
out from the white of the eye it is
so all-consuming
dots form in lines on the absentee spine
dry undefined lumps are soft and infusing
the bruises and rind and the opal contusions
they fire with pus and with derelict mucus that
rises in shape as if living and human
adorned in the fumes as mycelium blooms and pours
wings form from mold stocks that spew from the local pores
leeching the fluids the carcass now wizens forth
reaching the sky with a forest of open sores
sink in the bleak rims of deep skin have peaked
they churn sinkage and reak sin that bleeds from the meat
and it turns as it sings and pulls taught and it dreams
knots drink him and blink in with pinkeye beliefs
Categories:
wizens, allegory, corruption, death, garden,
Form: Rhyme
Pre-Surgery
A green long-leaved plant on the table
she says doesn’t need water for the next fortnight.
Does the plant bear flower?
No, she says it is supposed to be green striped like this
It has a lovely colour and is not a bother
Not like the rose plant that craves a constant attention
If you leave it alone for a week, it wizens.
The Christmas tree is white this year to give the
illusion of snow
this tree doesn’t need looking after, I say
It is better to buy a Chinese tree and save the forest
she retorts.
Surgery tomorrow, only light food and water, I feel grumpy.
Categories:
wizens, angst, animal,
Form: Burlesque