tooth soup

does not say a word
when the candle won’t burn,

never wonders; if
she fears, he falls,
flaming.…

He stands, simple
tunes gushing from his lips
the twin beasts are before him,
evasive under a layer of grease.

(did the first tentative tap
bring the devil’s voice booming?)

The cogs fall,
springs unwind in supplication,
a thousand destinations…

I’m lagging a bit behind on the poetry thing at the moment, but I’m determined to go home early today and hammer some out. In the meantime, there’s a piece on dA that is asking people what they believe poetry …

Once upon a time, the Sun got sick.

It started off as a series of wet sniffles on a fine Spring afternoon, but by the end of Summer the thermometer showed a supernova temperature. A constant stream of solar flares …

he awoke a platypus
a chimera of loose skin
and knuckles.

horny and bold
we stuck him with spears
and hurled boulders

nevermind the war cries
crafted, honed
to pierce his nervous shield

now we sting ourselves
with nettles
sunk …