Starving Of One Poem by David Corman

As her sad, lightless night tunnels
The rats scurry
A southern gothic emerges of late
With clockwork hinges and broken eyes
Years of lividity cave around
This hollow soul
For birds wake with no intentions
Of screaming into black holes
As vexing of gods returns
Wine has no taste
In such mountains
Does lurk the beast so loveless
She burns to the sky
With no end but dreaming in sight
That mirror of good men
Bears no fruit worthy of so cold a spirit
For snakes wake with ill intentions
Teeming with sickly hunger