Friday, December 11, 2009

i am crucifying jesus, and banging in the nails



  i'm crucifying jesus, and banging in the nails


it lives in the dark, something, in the dark, it lives, in the dark. something is living in the darkened recesses of my mind, yet unborn, but not yet unseen. it lives here in the corners, adjacent to memory banks, flowing on datastreams. this monster claws with kicks and screams,  this monster taunts my waking dreams.


          you don't even know me.           there are things about me.           you don't even know me.

this is the song my little monster sings, at the top of her unformed lungs, she screams. how does she stay alive? hot dogs milk shakes burgers tacos and fries pizza toppings root beer thighs. little peals of laughter ring out from my brain, you are now corpse remains.

slaughter house scraps, meat food packing appendages slip, maelstrom wind swept dream. tendons stripped from blood splattered walls and floors,

                           who is reading the menu with vacant eye sockets,  we all look bored.

drive-thru happy meal sack, down the asphalt orifice paved street. frozen tundra, landlocked mind feed, still has secrets to be born. silence is the greatest violence, my creature echoes with laughter. spinning little dervish, wicked little sprite, let me tuck you in.  your last night reeks of carnage.

she goes dead with eye blinking rage, her naked corpse stretches across the desert floor, cacti agave saguaro grasses. yawning caverns dislodged desire beaten by sandstorms of a gloomy haze. genitalia swallow the mountains in gulping desperate groans, intestinal fortitude and anguished pangs loom. laughing,giant beads of  sweat roll off her forehead, her skin peels back to reveal euphoric coffee stained teeth. 

                                      deliver us, your barren womb fertilized with mud and clay. 
                                    when you went away, i cried for so long, i wanted you to stay.

but that was so wrong. you burnt out a hole where love used to be.

known placental cadavers hang from meat hooks, i'll never leave you. come here little girl, get into the car. come here little girl, it's a brand new hummer, i'll be with you, i'll be there, i'll never leave you. aztecs navajos commanche sioux spirits soar on their backs with splattered gore. your blood stalks the cosmos, it paints the stars red, like you, i am gone. sinew, tendon, flesh, blood, and bone drip into love. sacrificial matter emptied of all meaning of whatever her name was.

                                                                i want to know,
                                                                do i stay or go,
                                                             and try another time. 
                                                            this.  is.  not.  the.  time. 
                                            
                                                     do i really grasp the underpinnings? 
                                                       
                                                          i'm not so very far behind.


demonic boot laced thigh high stiletto ruptured heart, eyelet pierced pubic bone strung taut, or whatever lies beneath that place. structured cheek bones break expressionless neon dream; flashing open, no vacancy. hair - bathed in the essence of lover's broken boned bodies, attacked. pulsating intellect thrashing along the shore. tongues lick the bootlace wrapped around the neck, bones pile up from chainsaw buzzed tsunami. drowning in an undertow to have your heart removed, ventrical ecstatic, velvet flesh pulverized. consuming flesh putrid remains swallowed stench, shitting eyes hollowed skulls slack jawed baby dolls drool vaporous gas. blow-up dolls swell in the blistering sun, swollen breasts vacant sex escaping air. left nipple bitten clean off, plastic tendril seepage leaks.

she walks through broken asphalt cracked dreams with reptile eyes, snake skin scaled fantasy, sucked dry. thread bare tattered rags, one string left to pull, from withered genitalia milked day after day. crags fissure open wide, big gulp slurpy cup rivers dammed burst free on dark, dead end streets.
                                                    
                                                     that is where we always meet.
                                                     if we should meet, walk on by?


 i'm crucifying jesus, and banging in the nails.


copyright, 2009, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved

No comments: