X.
The owl moved away. Wanted
more fascination, like
barrens to scrutinize; I’m light
work for mildew, fungus.
At no instance did I think
I’d get in trouble
and the quickest way to the heart
is to extricate it from a cadaver
with a pearl
handled cleaver. Each appointment
at the hospital
scheduled for earlier.
Benefits of birth
include I am still a wet sack
capable of clogging the toilet
at a stranger’s house.
In the dream I afford
a pristine spot in a morgue.
In reality, I trip and trample
over your favorite wildflowers
and do what I was created to do:
make it up to you, do it wrong.
XX.
I asked the sun to overwhelm itself with hair
wouldn’t you like to stay warm, I says to sun
Ban Books, that’s much ado, why not
but if you touch my snuff films
I’ll kill you dead on livestream
All is spun, I tickle your spider bites
just close those eyes and floor it, sugar
the mystery of false metaphysics
lame footed jumpingjacker
I trace your hooves through sand dunes
in a vacuum, the future is bleak
downright indiscernible
but I remain a migration of ice
I never learned anything else
besides eating bodies whole
and then a subtle gesture for more
XXX.
who called ascension blessed
every treble clef in a stave
- About the Author
- All Posts by This Author
From rural Michigan, Nicholas Alti is a bartender in Atlanta who holds an MFA from The University of Alabama. He is interested in horror, arcana, silliness, and surrealism. His poetry is in The Horror Zine, BlazeVOX, Poet Lore, Red Ogre Review, and elsewhere. Find all his published work at 3bluntzatonce.com.
- About the Author
- All Posts by This Author
From rural Michigan, Nicholas Alti is a bartender in Atlanta who holds an MFA from The University of Alabama. He is interested in horror, arcana, silliness, and surrealism. His poetry is in The Horror Zine, BlazeVOX, Poet Lore, Red Ogre Review, and elsewhere. Find all his published work at 3bluntzatonce.com.