Lance Carthen

Rookie (4-10-81 / Mineral Wells, TX)

Cockroach Juice - Poem by Lance Carthen

It sits atop a pile of baby bones.
Sipping cockroach juice.
Lurking inside the darkest tomb.
Maggots it will chew.

Long pointed fingers, nails are cracked.
Teeth are sharp and green.
Crawling with a limp into the dirt.
Taking its filthy bath.

Cockroach juice, it sips and waits.
Worms about, wallowing in hate.
To think it was once, beautifuly loved.
Before this angel was cast from above.

Smiling its long, deranged, shit eating grin.
On the fullest moon screaming for forgiveness.
Rippled skin slowly begins to bleed.
Scraping it off, eating the rotten meat.

Sun starts to rise.
Shining will blind.
The creature goes into the cold, cold tomb.

Pacing the floor.
Hunting prey.
Waiting for the next full moon.

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep



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Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 19, 2006

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 20, 2010


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