Drinking in Pleasure and Headaches


And through the
tethered and tattered
noise,
your voice cut
the mayhem
like a shark bite.
The raven wrestled
to the ground,
wings pinned behind
her tortured neck,
she calls the crows down
from the swaying rafters
to aid in the quest
for western reproduction of
old north magic,
witches stirring their icy hot cauldrons,
humming odes of Isis
and that poor and plagued Persephone,
speaking words in
ancient slippery tongues,
languages long forgotten
in the panic strangled path
to fame and fortune-
hunting down the saints
with steal arrows spitting fire.

Though I know you
fucking heard me
in my lonely prophecy,
it seemed once the
words spilled
thirst on the page,
you picked up your own spite and
silly stolen syntax,
playing marbles
with easy monsters,
chugging liquored journeys
down your tasty throat,
left me
empty cans with oily fingerprints,
selling garbage at garage sales,
scissors stings,
raped muses,
eloquent slurrings of
my passion,
yet,
just enough sneaky lust
to keep my syrup skin bleeding,
I envisioned angels,
perceiving tantric music and pleasure mixing with
open wounds,
in the astral realms,
blisters and bumped heads
on the tall buildings that
fell from that wicked heaven,
faked well but I could always tell,
skies of pies that
shone bright with
glossy finish,
tasted like
seizure meds and Drano.

Masquerade masks
even needed moments alone
to wipe their tears
and drowned sighs from acting happy
in front of crowds,
applauding in delight,
but spitting on our shoelaces
as we came down
the sparkling stairs,
illusion of glam and glitz,
we paid dearly,
Marilyn Monroe with her
sex appeal and sad honest eyes,
signs of the agony cross and
captivity wasn’t worth it
to those poor and pitiful
phoenix girls,
suffocated in their own ashes
with no hope of
re-birth and
speaking their minds,
sputtering truths
before giving up breathing
at young ages.

Oh the nightmares
as of late,
raining down on
my erotic zones,
waking me up in
the middle of twilights
with shrill screams,
sirens blazing,
drugs and dying,
my father lost before
the war on cancer
came to my house,
banging anger and
frothing mouths
on the back door
even with porch lighting
and twinkling stars.
And you dared to
come to me with
quick fixes,
tornado warnings
when you didn’t know
that time passed through
the camels stubborn eye and
needles pinch the
wrathful skin.
You never saw the
sick children,
throwing up in bright hallways
covered with murals
of the outside world
they never got the chance to see,
ponies prancing and
taking tea with tiaras
and disney princess cups full
of sugar and chemicals.
There was no easy answer,
how dare you insinuate
my lack of care
with smirks of condescension.
I saw it all,
too much tapped in
to voices in my skull,
for my own sanity
was lost in the river
that rode you safely
to the ocean,
drinking in your pleasure
without a word spoken
between us. 

No comments:

Post a Comment