departure…

canopy
conceals
the stars and moon
darkness
shrouds the source
of
sounds
in
a veil
of
fear
sounds
come from
all
directions
none louder
than
the boy’s
pounding heart
as
shallow breaths
join
the chorus
of
fear
suddenly
strong scents
fill
his nostrils
it’s like
an approaching death
pulse
quickens
he
lowers his body
to
the ground
becoming one
with
the earth
then
a torch
is lite
he is encircled
by
his elders
bapa dola
speaks
saying
each hunter
must have empathy
for
their prey
the taking
of
life
for survival
means
the end
of
survival
for
another
so
should be done
with
respect
and
understanding
of
the prey’s fear
a fire
was lit
and
the elders
brought forth
nature’s offerings
for
a boy
was now
a man

 

hot to trot…

digital decoupage based on image from Nordic Co-operation (norden.org)

the brown bag prophet
was standing outside
an antique shop
as i made
my way home
from work
he stopped me
and said
did you know
they used to
take photos
of the dead
at funerals
the practice has
fallen out of favor
these days
folks don’t want
to admit that death
is their inevitable right
they want to believe
that going to the gym
popping pills
and
hanging with young people
will make them
immortal
personally
i find them
quite amusing
watching some old fart
running with a pack of wolves
not realizing
he’s
the bitch’s prey

lovers’ quarrel…

i watched
as the hawk
struck her prey
but it scurried
injured into the brush
the hawk soared high
into the parched noonday sky
patiently waiting for its return
for she knew
this was
the only place
for water

 

full venom…

long before his morning coffee
they lay hidden
waiting for their prey
no movement
but full of venom
poised to strike
without warning
he moved outside
preparing for another day
tractor readied
he moved
the body bitten
with full force
fangs sunk deep into the flesh
breaking open the skin
the venom injected
his blood seized by this flash of pain
cascading through his body
into his heart
and
with those
words
she
walked
away

a body has been found…

the fog
like the shroud of turin
wrapped around the lakeshore
an omen for those searching
for an unmarked grave
a grave dug with satan’s own hands
one as shallow as the soul
that forced her into the earth
moving as he did before
stalking a young child
fearing not the catach-and-release justice system
or megan’s law or god’s law
for he had seen the religious leaders
who moved from church to church
just as he had moved from town to town
and now in another jail cell
he will watch the same series of events
just like his last prey and so he yawns
and says
not another
candlelight service
and songs like
darling i wish you were here
and lawyers creating jury doubt
and then backroom deals
so he goes to sleep
but i
i summon nemesis
to whom vengeance belongs
o goddess
to whom vengeance belongs
show yourself
come forth and as god
cast out his angel
i ask that you
revenge your sister
and place
this
on the right hand of lucifer
where
it
belongs