Obsessed For Abscess - Poem by Joe Elmenhorst
The shift was never noticed. Emptiness. Dried out lacerations. first sign of is the stiffening in the fingers, Stimulation keys, subtonic. eyes rolling pupils saturated and overwhelmed with dilation. Blast of a gunshot. killer. Moan. cumshot asexual. Affection one The Muck filling the hole, Both like beast systematically at the rapid point of decay. Alone on the corner, silent mood swings. With organs failing while our mouths dropping for young hustlers finding ourselves in the middle of 19th, living in a crack in the old earth - dope sick. Needle to cotton needle to flesh. Here come the heat as you put it away! hide it in the bed under covers in the blue room, in the house down the road. The boy swears to the flesh and blood the monster is here with us, invincible creature licking the boys lubricated open wounds. what are these items that force leaves behind the shining sharp pieces that attract reporters? Cadaver baring the marks of an assault bruises and pointy ribs, blue cracked dried lips. anybody else mostly here? waiting. With no patience. waking to no one there. Cold and empty. ten days sick, A strong instinct and the fetish of parasites feeding. this is a well even game, a loving game. Burning away to refinish a memory. what's that in rooms? What's over there?
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