The rumblings of war drums sounded in the distance
He strode across the field of green
Slaked in red
Salt drip, drip, dripping from his meat
When, on the horizon, he saw it
The maw, hungering
It descended upon him
Determined to cut through
White blades consuming the field
Splintering the marrow
Flesh scraping against steel
The rush of fluid like a thousand screams
The quaking rupturing everything in its path
Savoring the lives lost to dedicate this single moment

Yum
A satisfying meal

A shade of indifference colored his lap-danced lapel
Ecstasy unforgotten
The wine of his cask spilled forth
Sanguine spots like candy drops
Memories of a sightless age
Of wars on Mars
Winter’s end marched forth
From the aberrant crypt
The hot wash of shame filled him
As steel slept glinting in his eye
Destiny wants to marry him
And can you really stand in the way of destiny?

Two dots of brown
A smiling row of white
Patches of red, blue, peach, black
But I only notice the brown

Staring forward, unwavering, vacant
Staring at me
Through me
But not only me

At others, swirling around
Passing by, ignoring his brown
Agendas and luncheons and extra-marital affairs
Occupying more important thoughts
But not mine

Who is the man behind the colors?
He (or she) who creates life from the unliving
Capturing an instant in time forever?
I ask no one in particular
But I know I will never know the answer

Two dots of brown
A smiling row of white
In an ever-moving city
In an ever-moving moment
Frozen, alone
But I am here

For Martin

Deep, deep, deep into the shallows of the tide
Did Vera sift through the scum and microbes, searching
For a path. But who is to say he’ll ever find
It? A melody ever so sweet, it tasted of salt
As he licked his tongue. The clouds crooned as he longed
For the warmth of a berg. Oia melted into
A clotted, grey mess, but no one noticed their skin
And bones slipping into the sky. No one notices
Anymore how Allison danced on the table
Coffee and staples spilling onto sand.
She’ll be forgotten soon, like the shaved dust of
Plastic flying through a river of bile, and we will
Remember the name of Space and Fortune,
But she won’t be around to hear a glimpse of it.
The tines vibrate with immensity. Tine, time, tie
Clinching your throat with velvet hooks
As the waves bear against the rocks.

Inspired by Charles Bernstein’s “Gertrude and Ludwig’s Bogus Adventure”

She stalks the night, until the day shatters
Restless steps circling a verdant grave
Ebon footsteps prowl forward, searching, wandering
Shrouded in mist, she is alone
The woods whisper a song of solitude, roaring in her ears
Leaving behind a memory rusted with age
And nothing else
Dew drops flicker to life and swirl
Empyrean spheres teeming in the night
The darkness blooms forth
As she steps out into the hollow of the soul
The sole among towers
A trickle, faint
She marches, eyes piercing the black
The twilight piercing her

But then, she sees it
A pale silhouette against the night and the silent water
Mist and trepidation fills her lungs
She readies her bow
Ready to strike out into the gloom
A gloom so thick with horror, it ensnares
The arrow tip glows in the moonlight
An effulgence against the shadow
Silence screams
Waiting for her to feel the dark

The arrow flies through the umbral shade
Rending the silence asunder
The wind cries out in anguish
Crimson drops spatter the forest floor
It does not lash out
It does not scream in terror or agony
It merely falls
And silence rises once more
The radiance dying away
She steps into the abyss
And is swept away
The weald weeps
Flowing into the obsidian river
Flowing into the day