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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
Nightmare Mouth

Nightmare Mouth

A Poem by Tim Lion

half-smile, cigarette,

lip twitch, collision!

 

behold the crash dummy

carnage of

 

the attack of a misfired question:

 

lexical incisors puncture

moral meat without a

warning snarl;

in the downtown section

of the newly exposed

nightmare mouth,

zombie thought hordes

turn ravenous; malignant,

by the moment

the freight train pulse

returns to acceptable,

and shadow fingers

recede from the double-

barrel windpipe,

there’ll be brains

dripping from Normalcy’s

pustule-crowned chin.

© 2012 Tim Lion


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Featured Review

not fond of dentists? me neither. Not quite sure what the "Nightmare Mouth" is... what it relates to, a dream? a fear? an actual city?

The opening denotes an association with a mouth, an aspect of physical character, then the mouth/character asks a misfired question... who asked, who answers, what was the question? Does the rest of the prose describe what happens after the question is asked, what it causes?
A word here, a line there and the whole juicy thing jumps into focus.
possibilities galore.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

yeah how it all begins with a word , diatribal ellipisis in interpetation and perspective , all to end with a ?



Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

not fond of dentists? me neither. Not quite sure what the "Nightmare Mouth" is... what it relates to, a dream? a fear? an actual city?

The opening denotes an association with a mouth, an aspect of physical character, then the mouth/character asks a misfired question... who asked, who answers, what was the question? Does the rest of the prose describe what happens after the question is asked, what it causes?
A word here, a line there and the whole juicy thing jumps into focus.
possibilities galore.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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211 Views
2 Reviews
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Added on March 1, 2012
Last Updated on March 1, 2012

Author

Tim Lion
Tim Lion

Lake Worth, FL



About
Sometimes, when the moon presses her naked chest to my window, and my wife is carving the value from trash scraps, I feel like I may never be able to outshine my finite timeline. And the worst part is.. more..

Writing
oh sorry, oh sorry,

A Poem by Tim Lion



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