Untitled

The birth of Christ

I came...
I came...
Inside myself
Roasting cockroaches flew out my womb
Where baby Jesus lay entombed
In my concrete vomit filled placenta,
Maggots hatched and bloomed with purpose
A reason we can not be told

We can not be told

Like witches disobeying gravity,

In earth's law for men

We s**t in His soil and feast on forbidden fruits

Answering talking snakes,

Hanging from a tree,

With a noose screaming to be free

To be free

From a coil birthed next to a lamb

Of cocksuckers with bleeding teeth

Viewed from a stye

On the black shores of a lullaby

In narrow tears, spat from the sky

In lies

We birthed

In lies we birthed

In lies we shot

From a c**k's spur

Digging like a flea

On the a*s

Of a bee

That shot dimes soaked in corpse cheese.

Reviews

[Chilson, Joshua]

Very intriguing work, would love to see more