Wine

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


Horror. From the collection " Tempe Freight Trains."


Wine

 

The machinary whines

Down along the freight train line,

That runs drunk

Over the sections

Of your spine,

Through the mirrors 

Of lust

And the nights of crime,

While your flesh crawls

With spiders,

And is dressed in lime,

And your eyes

Are so hollow

They're totally blind,

While to the heavens

The moon

Can no longer climb,

As the bones

Of death's fingers

Clutch

A half glass of wine.

 


Submitted: January 11, 2018

© Copyright 2021 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:

Comments

Criss Sole

Yikes!
I don't think i'll look at wine the same way now. Great poem Tom.

Mon, June 29th, 2020 6:35am

Author
Reply

Thanks Criss, I drink water these days!

Mon, June 29th, 2020 1:02am

Sharief Hendricks

Aha...Master Tom, you can even make an enjoyable thing like wine send chills down my spine...

Loved it Sir!

Wed, October 21st, 2020 8:31am

Author
Reply

Thanks very much Sharief, wine's terrific when you're having the D T.s, best stick to metho!

Wed, October 21st, 2020 1:42pm

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