SaturnaliaA Poem by Alicante lullabySaturday, sunset leaves a saturnine taste on our lips till Orgiophant steals in,on his storch spraying something, Phermones,i think. Your pink slippered half sister shuffles through the dash-board looking for another vomit bag and the back seat expands while your hand keeps spinning of its own volition like it does with the paint brush when you dont know what you are making and the canvas resembles Rumpletskin-red HIV living under your skin. I'm crazy and you are poetic,baby and we both are contagious. Your hand keeps spinning like it has a mind of its own stirring up images in my head of gaping bird mouths, of dead silver fish, of Ma's swollen belly, of Nanny's scurvyed lips, of Levantine furniture and of the world dying beneath my feet.
© 2010 Alicante lullabyAuthor's Note
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8 Reviews Added on December 5, 2010 Last Updated on December 6, 2010 AuthorAlicante lullabyAboutThe Hanging Man By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me. I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet. The nights snapped out of the sight like a lizard's eyelid: The wor.. more..Writing
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