“Pit” – “Y gwrachod Gwen”

Pit Down in the blackDeep darkSmothering heatSoot, dust choking airCramped crawling barelyMovingClanging, hacking, breaking,Further downCloser to hellThe devilThe men hear knockingmoaningWailing warningThey continue onClutching crucifixOn they goDeeper into the black. Y gwrachod Gwen She walkedLed through the townIn the rainMud packed bare feetRope around her delicate neckHands boundThe Witch, the witchOnly God, our lord, can … Continue reading “Pit” – “Y gwrachod Gwen”

“Nostalgia Addict” – “Haunting Eros” – “Reflections Of A Tory”

Nostalgia Addict The old playground you visit: Where you got your first concussionWhere you first fell in loveWhere you first knew heartbreak It is made of mud, junkie needles, and used condomsAll the dirty froth on the orgasmic daydream.And yetYou still stay A supplicant, knees bent low, arms outstretched.You want the holy manna of better … Continue reading “Nostalgia Addict” – “Haunting Eros” – “Reflections Of A Tory”

“Betty and Barney Hill, Ed and Lorraine Warren, April afternoon.”

Spring comesOn the top of the housesTriangular roofs covered in spring slime Dripping on little boysCovering their nipples in green gooWarm wind blowing The smell of pies make nostrils erectBones under skin, smoothly circling jointsNo clicks at allNo clicks all smooth Basketballs fly in clear skiesA cockroach in the corner darkContemplates its young Mom and … Continue reading “Betty and Barney Hill, Ed and Lorraine Warren, April afternoon.”

“Chinese Box” – “Clocklight”

Chinese Box Not even onethought is the same.The light crushes itselfthrough the rum.Winks like a stoplight,red and undone.You say, “there is an animalin the room” and I wonder which.Of us are you speaking?Of. If I have been my ownsecret friend,I am sorry.If I have smudgedeach momentlike a glass,I am sorry.I admit to foldinghours like paperflowers, … Continue reading “Chinese Box” – “Clocklight”

Crossroad

It’s a normal night, but the boy can feel the world ending. Outside, orange rays from streetlights hang limply against darkness; cars pass beneath his window at random, each crawling by as if in procession. All seems still; only the boy can recognize the destruction that will soon be wrought. Death does not frighten the … Continue reading Crossroad