Black Hole

Note: this is an old poem


All of the words spilling from my consciousness

Like a cup overfull

Spilling out of skull

Through the black hole sockets

All the ideas tainted and blood

Through and through

Like mounds of clots

Soft, solid, staining wounds skin


It is that

Putrid and slippery

Only beautiful to deaths child

Spilling from brain folds

Tense with life, thought, heat

Out of black hole mouth

Into black hole fingers

That wrote/typed the apocalypse


Syllables, prose

Like flowers wither

Like snakes that undulate graceful

Twist round black hole tongue

On the way out past black hole teeth

Good for nothing but sorrow

Make the rope round black hole neck

And pry finally black hole feet from earth


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