Roger Pratz

Scarlet
Her name reeks
of love
Her blood is
...

The world's at my door
In paper-bag scrubs
Re-wiring my doorbell
To summon baseball crickets
...

Truth hurts
Like baby seals
In a buttered frying pan
Banjo land mines
...

A spoonfull of gasoline
Is what gets me out
Of my meat maggot bed
All the time I
...

This Greasy
Chicken fat slide
Will force me into your manic
Arms
...

Nothing ever changes
Because no one ever cares
Blood is soaking through the ceiling
Because of dying worm babies
...

There's a hamster in the blender
But he put himself there
My finger's on 'purée'
And I put it there
...

Card board cut-out faces
Dangle from rat tail weaved
yarn
Tied to a broken down ice cream truck
...

Down the owls bear upon us
With careless thoughts of hunger
How they bring thier demon eggs down to hatch
Within the depths of our rotting stomachs
...

Screaming red lights
Caught in a windows glare
People step aside to let it float by
Wooden beras with chainsaw smiles
...

Crumpled to the floor
Bleached blood doors
Too much a time
Rings beyond pale
...

Not lambs for the slaughter
Just cows in a field
Safety in shelter
A comforting herd
...

And so the
lightning
struck
Not once
...

Water splashes
about my feet
drip
drop
...

Ice cubes like
Blood
Fingers in the
Lights
...

I'm stuck here
in the midle of nowhere
A dark hole that
Looms
...