Crawling gods hairy dark unkillable
Giddily slither the bugs
With their lily-like harpoons their beady eyes
Their many legs hairy and black
Their mottled glans
Their puce prepuces
Their bleating mouths
Their unctuous invocations
Their vicious hearts
Their wrinkled assholes from where volumes
Are shitted of quivering stinking platitudes...
I’ve been a secretary to a dentist
To a clumsy dentist I might add
I’ve seen pain
I’ve seen faces scorched and flayed
The faces you’d see when you opened the iron maiden’s door
And the fellow inside had been pierced through the nose
The eyes the mouth
His bowels topsy-turvy
His organs every which way
And burst you bet
Susurrant seeping garbledly gurgling
Telling one to pull the chain on it all
Once and for all
The deed done...
I’ve been smirking high on a booster seat
Fronting the circus
I’ve even had my courage briefly rubbed off
My heart lumbering
My blood whipping
My lungs yammering nonsense
When for pure pukka tiptop deterrence a beast jumped on the bleachers
We keen on aucupation
A hawk feeding on the filthy wealthy
Extracting its tithe on the eyes of the onlookers:
There is something as having too much fun...
But those bugs
Those bugs were unkillable
Did I try to stick up their asses a stick of dynamite...?
Did I ever!
No event so singular that could end them
Not even a nuclear bomb making a dent
Their atoms undetachable
Tightly bound with an inexpugnable glue
Are they gods...?
They must be
Probably the original ones
Or else the posthumous ones
The gods we left behind
For that’s the only way to kill them
To kill the unkillable bugs or gods
Shadowy presences nibbling gnawing
At the dusty corners under your bed
Corroding your corns your feet
Your soul – membranous tattered torn down...
By wiping your conscience clean
Die please die
And thus kill the gods.
For Every Tib and Tom Cat
23. gods - the posthumous ones
- ► 2008 (22)
- ▼ d’octubre (7)
- ► 2006 (20)
- ► 2005 (39)