Moon Dogs

dragonfly alien, glimmering and sleek
deadly stranger flitting over a chuckling mountain creek
indiscriminate in their predation on the meek
they can kill nearly a thousand mosquitos every week!

Not a phoenix nor the ash
naught but heat and gas
but a chemical reaction
sparking brief and energetic
escapes all fates' flickering
leaves in the seventh inning
before the curtain call
rise or rest all matter
heat motivates all


Cutting faces with words as sharp as a
scalpel
slice by slice the freeze dried soul
revealed
in all her gory veined glory
stretched out like a roadmap the size of a
parachute
gussy the dangling body up in finest winter
camouflage
land and crumple stiff legged knees
snap

Like a crack in the rock
a sharp pain in the back
emerges, one eely tentacle at a time until an infinitude fill our eyes with that blackmilk benthic haze she brings us
-ever-all-dearest Kraken in our skull
gri ahtaptot la pulpo gris
o loyal companion,
Despair.


In a cupboard dusty and forgotten a child's lost memories
postcards full of tales and wisdom and blind paternal love
plasticene dinosaurs covered in thumbprints like the footprints of ancients preserved on mudstone
the marvelous works of any child's mind


They get more active as the day grows
the wasps and their mysterious paths
in the morning they go about waking the Juniper tree
helicoptering threatfully around the porch
they respect our boundaries


this cemetery is very old
we hear whispers in the ruins
ante este pasillo del mausoleos
The skies are black and laden
the air smells like lightning


Bloody knives and superstition, they go hand in hand
bandit-cultists break every bone and bury one in sand
all to worship deities and pour more blood upon the land
Listen only to true whispers of the fae, not alibis of wicked man.



Pressure from all directions flowing into this trailer with tattered ugly shag carpet and kiddy-piss stains on the broken-backed love seat
from every window filling the whole place up as the man sits in front of the PlayStation black flatscreen turning the gun in his hands