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SF poem inspired by the writings of Dean Koontz.


Submitted:Feb 9, 2011    Reads: 31    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Snake vines are moving
Almost as fast as a man,
Slopping oils across
Each other, and the trees on
Which they grow and ambulate.

Vines polluting
Flowers that grow on the bark
Of the larger trees,
Strangling plants and animals
That come within their reach.

Spongy tendrils (thick
as spaghetti) writhe with life
Faster and faster,
More vibrant than before
Reaching out for human prey.

Moist vegetation
Soft and clinging; whispering
Like sibilant snakes,
Thousands of tiny tendrils
Writhing and curling like worms.

Pulpy, disgusting
Strands, penetrate body holes
Entering the mouth,
Then flowing out once more through
Eye and nasal cavities.

THE END
© Copyright 2011
Philip Roberts,
Melbourne, Australia





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