a slow slag-heap-sun
slips into a
concussed sky
down there where the ice cries
a sixty a day hearse
gnarls it's grilled
tombstone-teeth
watch it. . .
snap, snap, snapping
at the haemorrhaging heels
that st-stumble on
impotent stumps
can you save it,
do you even want to stop the . . .
flailing, falling - thump
as the forest's last cough
crumbles like
charcoaled-dust?
inhale it
inhale all
. . .that choking sulphuric-air
as it licks long the
canary's strangled-song
give them up. . .
the lumps of life-clotting lungs
wrung out with the hides
the why, oh why, oh why. . .
yet, in the seamless shadows
his smile is endless
*a fist shakes hard*
. . .and the dark-eyed dice roll quick and fast
"swallow those shards, kiddo"
*a deep breath*
"yes, do it!"
"do it, now!"
and for the last time
in a bobbing bottled sea
and with the
surety of cyanide
a skull capsizes and
sin
. .k
. .s
humanities hollowed chances
now reduced to a
single
sea-bed-stained sentence:
"eventually, even the parasites
will perish!"
Submitted: December 03, 2020
© Copyright 2021 mr. darcy. All rights reserved.
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