basilisk

the sun is bleeding
bloodshot eyes of
tortured animals
flaming stones of torn
entrails boiling crows
possess me

 

fat angels

it's silly to worry about
decrepit
crawdaddys
polluting
metals
stripping castrated
mermaids
chained to a star

even if the fat angels scorched
all the turnip greens
epileptic
squid
men would still be folding your legs
in a sack of copulating
flesh parts

rotting mansions

Resuscitating Fredrico's lover crash zone oracle gas tanks
suicidal thoughts of
cigar store Indians burning in a corn field.

Bolting not strapping experiencing fits of uncontrollable
laughter bricklayers
forfeit easily assembled coffin chairs to slaughter chimeras in
an arcade.

dead engines

Beneath the wheels of a locomotive, severed fingers, broken
bones ground to sugar dust, asphalt stones, hills
of beer cans & mountains of decomposing bodies.

Beneath the wheels of a locomotive, three-eyed demons
whirl menacing tornadoes of destructive forces,
world wars, burning cities, rust of junk cars &
shards of piled up sheet metal spinning tombs of
mass death.

O my ancestors! Caught beneath the wheels of a locomotive
uranium babies burn napalm hauled to the
breeding grounds of buffaloes stampeding dust
storms of idle machinery.