Poem -

QUIET AS A SERIAL KILLER------- SLICED FOOTSTEPS


Stillness has a quiet yet vicious taunt
it hangs as the ever-present noose
soft mystical dreams crush on to a heated passion
swarming the molten darkness
sight retreats into silence
yet stillness utters no quiver
no moving dancing pagan lust

Hell holds the night
fast in my grip
modern parades of sunken pill
wash ashore against my futures grave
stained in stench
a woven layer of forgotten dust
betrays its desire
false the carpeted tomb

old in discard
Electronic beasts
perform vibrating scalping
airless in succubus
we laid dormant with glass crowns
stinging lighted cigarettes
with ruby and pearl droplets

Vast echo entertains
bored and chained corners
dressed in fairytales
and vomited cobweb

one full brimming plastic coffin
stands overflowing
with small unframed memories
strangers born from youths loin
and lovers long in journey
lay
open and turned

 the kidnapped palm reader
himself unemployed
in exhausted attempt
sits amongst tie-dyed embers
while moths scented with Tibetan musk
swirl  against the souls raven breast

SILENCE
POURS ITSELF THE LAST DRINK
AS THE CROWD HARVEST
AND GATHER