Little poisonous needles pierce flesh from the sky,
falling like diamond fangs of oblivion,
tearing into open wounds with venomous kisses,
spitting out the toxic waste in vomited waves.
Her love is a dark fire of death,
using lust as a wicked intoxication
to lure in tragic victims
before burying them beneath the cancer in her heart.
Salvation is a dirty word whispered from her lips,
blistering forth from a tongue of chaos
to coat the spirit of weary travelers
who have been sadly fooled by the siren’s song.
A devil in a temptress gown –
dancing atop the graves of her victims,
howling at the moon come midnight,
laughing madly as the maggots begin to roar.
Scalpel teeth enter the neck with pinpoint precision,
tearing deeply into broken veins,
sucking out the river of life,
polluting the well with eternal blackness.
A riptide fury with which she works
to weave her tangled web of lies,
calling out the next fat meal
to toy with in her clutches before biting.
The latest feast to fill her gorged guts –
acid burning to the core of dehydrated bones,
melting the marrow into a soup
before being slurped down her abysmal soul.
Sometimes I write love songs devoted to God and the magical wonderment of Creation. Sometimes I write dark, cancerous lullabies inspired by black widows. In the end, it’s all just fun and games. Mostly. There is, of course, always a larger agenda lingering…building up behind the curtains…waiting for the perfect moment to begin the show…
Two poems came out yesterday at Dead Snakes:
Scott Thomas Outlar