26 June 2012

Bloody Imposter


They never sicken of taking my blood

They must have gallons by now

Enough to reconstruct the man

To make a blood monster

To take my place

To kiss my wife with his bloody lips

To sleep beside her in my bloody bed

Perhaps I am that bloody man

How would I ever know?

Maybe I’m the bloody doppelganger

What if the real me is locked away

In some asylum somewhere

And I’m his crazy counterpart

The bloody imposter in his life


12 June 2012

Poppy Tears


The ancient Vedas describe the poppy as ‘heart pleasing’. There is no more apt description.The thin white latex leaks in milky droplets from the poppy’s skin and hardens into a sticky brown resin.

It tastes of bitter lettuce and burns with an acrid smoke that lays soporific charms on the minds of savage beasts.

It gifts the touch of night and a little death on the hearts of those bleached divers on that fatal arc who drink the poppy’s tears


11 June 2012

Mirror, Mirror


There are certain kinds of dust monkey who'll eat your fucking face off and vampires who’ll suck up your will to live. When I look in the mirror I see your face which could be the cause of deep self loathing. After all I wear the devil’s face, but I don’t care no more. I learned to live with that and any number of bad trips you laid on me.

So I’m the Antichrist and the bad Buddha. I abide in the knowledge that no man can touch my piece of mind. So I’ll be laughing my socks off come your judgment day.