Poem: Unexploded Bomb


The unexploded bomb in the back garden,
Household fires that cannot be confined,
The perfect crime that comes begging for pardon,
The pounding nails from the hammer of time

I wanted to enjoy myself,
To surrender to the music,
But you were my obstacle:
A slab of indifference envenoming my enjoyment

Growing demoniac,
My meditation was a palimpsest of lacerations,
Of turning prodding fingers into black, fetid knives,
Carving patterns into the fibrils of your back,
A generous mutilation of your worthless spine

I could’ve eaten you then,
Scattered you in fillets over the dance floor,
The punishment for obstructing me with insignificance,
Making me the steak knife into humanity’s fillet

An obstacle to my ego,
To that which suffers,
Suffering unto the little children,
That disguise themselves as humans

The demon babies in the belly,
The perfume in the smelly,
The cyanide in the elixir,
The gold heart of the trickster



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