Janie is a beast who enjoys social masquerade; a venomous shape-shifter. Wolfish eyes peep through a pink porcelain dream. Beyond the tiny white lip-scar, a demon is being strangled by a warrior-priest who lives in a s****y efficiency at the intersection of tangled guts and wasted talents. All thinkable versions of this creature are hideous predators. To embrace such a sexy disaster is akin to playing Russian Roulette with a Sumo wrestler on a dental floss high wire.
2
At first, it’s a whimsical wobble. Then, morality is eclipsed by a dire need for fluid movement and tight heat. You know where the exit is, but you can’t stop chewing that raggedy clump of raw flesh long enough to say goodnight. Those news stories of murder and gluttony suddenly make sense to you, and that painting of Christ over the old couch seems to growl. Once your pulse matches the tribal rhythm that screams from within Janie’s undead hope, the only escape is to fall.
3
Doom-whispers burn long and deep like grease-pops. Soft slow music blows deception into your ear. Janie is in the bathroom changing. Now you’re an ignorant fly lounging in a web hammock; serving up your soul. The laughter turns vicious. Wet footsteps on white tile; the drum roll before the execution. You hold your breath and wait for the ride to end.
"akin to playing Russian Roulette with a Sumo wrestler on a dental floss high wire." how do you conjure these images? that would be a horrible situation. first, there's a sumo wrestler, who could flatten me in a heartbeat, if he lives long enough for another one, then russion roulette, which scares me shitless, the chance at dying to great for me to even consider trying in my most drunken nightmares, high wire, and i'm scared of falling, dental floss, i'm scared of flossing... my god, terror in a sentence.
I read all of your work, even if I don't review. But I have to say that I honestly love this piece. Beautiful, ugly, dark, intense. Write more please. :D
"akin to playing Russian Roulette with a Sumo wrestler on a dental floss high wire." how do you conjure these images? that would be a horrible situation. first, there's a sumo wrestler, who could flatten me in a heartbeat, if he lives long enough for another one, then russion roulette, which scares me shitless, the chance at dying to great for me to even consider trying in my most drunken nightmares, high wire, and i'm scared of falling, dental floss, i'm scared of flossing... my god, terror in a sentence.
As always, I enjoyed your images and word choices, but by the poem’s end, I felt as though I had drowned. I’m a simple man, meaning I was quickly overwhelmed. It’s bouquet is too complex for me I’m afraid.
The depth and complexity of the images you put together forming a web of layers on the canvas. I love the tone, the knowing what you're in for but you can't help yourself and finally accept your fate.