The Hysterical Dead

The corpses laugh
at the frantic
living.

They guffaw,
bloated with
death and decay.

Great, heaving
roars
as white bones
dance
and maggots shake off.

Overnight on the Train

The train windows
fogged up
cloudy with a
blue glow
from the passing
night stars.

With my finger
pressed against the
cold frosted glass,
I wrote out
what I longed to tell you
but my lips
would not speak.

The Woman's Pet Snake

The iridescent snake
slid and coiled
around her
smooth arm
and well-manicured hand.

Scales cold,
it drank from
the glass of warm
red wine
with her.

Tongue flickering.

Gods Of Another Nature

Gods older
than any constructs of time.

Larger than any
constructs of space.

Well beyond
the imagination
of the human mind.

Gods merciless and alien
to the tribulations of life.

This belief
was as close as she could get
to the mainstream religion
she'd been spoon-fed since birth.

At least,
this belief felt
plausible and true to her.

Vacant Eyes

The rain fell hard
upon her
dead cheek.

Beheaded and gone,
her hair still gleamed golden
in the town square.

Too many eyes
stared into
her own.

Empty now.

By way of the guillotine.

Vaguely Spiritual

Crystal arrangements
and the sweet stink of
homegrown weed.

Tight bodysuits
and "fuck me"
yoga positions.

The digital glow
of self-love,
karma,
mantras.

Have you tried
coconut oil?
It's life changing.

With My Eyes Closed

There are some things
I can only see
with my eyes closed.

Dancing light
and colors.

Scenes of my life
that will never
come to be.

I imagine if I had
said something different
or been somewhere
I wasn't.

I go and venture
in my mind
to all those parallel worlds.

Some things I see
only with my eyes closed.

But that's how it's supposed to be.