Horizon swaying in the distance Warring infinites of gray and black Salt spray swirling in my lungs The floor keeps a layer of bilge As indiscriminate waves Chop away at our sides Our voices are subdued A reverence for our fortune Rivers of pale-yellow shards Arc up through the air From the way of the … Continue reading Two to three miles offshore (a poem)
Narrative
Blood Like Rain (cosmic horror)
“Drip, drip, drip,” goes the rain Thinks he As a deep red smears his fingers Wiping a cheek and turning to the skies High above in the clouds Floats the crucifixions Of humans by the millions An ocean of flesh Indiscriminately strung up By the invisible Their eyes are torn to pink Seeing nothing below … Continue reading Blood Like Rain (cosmic horror)
Ha Ha Horse Fly Forest (a poem about casual racism)
They all laughed.
Adults are all liars (a poem about growing up)
We heaped lies on lies to cover up lies, We lied because we wanted appeal. We had never even known anything else, We did it to make ourselves feel real.
The Universe Has a Sense of Humor (a musing/poem)
Exhaling towers of yellow haze like Smaug the Terrible, in my lonely solitude, I rocked to and fro on a shadowy slab of concrete, and let the sounds of the world wash over me.
Red (a narrative horror epic)
Hooks to my teeth It pries open My mouth Chills rattle Down the base Of my skull To the marrow Of my sacrum
The Thorned Rings (a dream/cosmic horror poem)
As the vessel unfurled to a boundless womb, unspeakable darkness yawned out.
HE (dream/cosmic horror poem)
I hung my head to an unfamiliar grotesque limb the alien umbilical that joined us at the navel my stomach crawled chest lurched
Us
Sick with despair Sick of this anger I can barely Stand the sight of you And your ungrateful face So I smack it Just hard enough For a little satisfaction But you merely recover And spit in my eye So I wipe it slowly Like a hunter Just enough motion That the prey Does not … Continue reading Us
You might have saved me
Biting cold saps the fight from my limbs, currents toss me and I tumble, sucking, drumming, gasping, thrumming. In brief I am anchored, the tumult rushes around me. “Are you okay?” Those words lost to years. I knew better than to reach back or close my aching fingers, you might fall in. So I push … Continue reading You might have saved me
