;C.o..r .r..u.. .p.t.i.o…n ..;

Seizure Warning: Extreme flashing lights and rapid blinking. 

Scatter(ed) scatter(ed) scat t er (ed) and a (  . .a..)(..r..)(..m..) length away from..~you~ 

 Once upon a time the world glitched. Then stripped static people counted on numbers to be heard. A hundred million people stayed that way and people died that way. Puncturing holes in eye sockets to fit the big screens. Headlight hairs pointed towards the crowd-s morbid curiosity. They all blinked in unison.

I have always feared the dark

In the dark a hand is not a hand

a hand does not belong to you

a hand does not exist 

In the dark each finger is a stranger

they wiggle to poke holes in your skin 

Each one betting on who can scar the most

each toe a long lost relative

They stand at attention and in the dark 

they rage war on the bed-sheets

 

 

Mr. Man didn’t believe in good luck. 

He promised me fifty gold coins if i could do a back flip off a cliff 

I lowered the bet to twenty five. 

He asked why.

“I don’t need fifty when i’m dead” 

 he said Yes but why twenty five?

I didn’t want to answer that question

so i jumped

The flight was great. 

The food was like heaven on a platter 

The boys and the girls were wonderful 

Munching on the high atmosphere like a last meal 

The soft shatter of windows and the implosions were electrifying

my toes wiggled in the confides of my metal shoes 

The seat belt tugged up my neck 

My ears bounced from my head 

It was my first time flying.

Her kisses were sweet 

Every rapid touch of parted  lips sent cavities to my core 

my sticky fingers tangled in a mass of curly chocolate hair 

Or teeth smacked bubble gum tongues 

We rolled in the mass of too sweet sweets dripping sugar 

and canes

rows of attentive buyers lined the streets 

eye wide and sapping 

hands itching-twitching on jumpy legs 

fingers flying down rough material 

and clutching flimsy paper bags 

Bells chimed in time 

each count ticking down flashing shutters 

frigid palms gathered old candies 

and bodies bounced around bodies

 .Blood. – .Red. – .Hues. 

The talk of the town

is covered in red

and pink dripping sin

Laced too tight across

bouncing a chest

The man of the house 

cross eyed and bushy tailed 

his hair flops across his eyes

frail fingers lace in the bounding locks 

and tussles the disobedience out of wolves 

we call those women