it enters on a whim (let it in in in)--
it knocks upon our doors with its phantom limbs
and it rushes in white horses makes the Nevers well-of-courses
turns a tipSy tOpsy all the rules
we thought we had adorned as jEwels
of what was hard and what was pRecious (never get us! no confesses)
time to get it out—it's time—
but parasites breed in the rhyMe
BalOOning and mushrOoMing
LittLe WiCKed wormY thEENGs
liTTel LYMEE lookeenG WeenGS.
In THAIR fetid FAYREE ReeNGs
self-decapitation ends it,
somEtimes, though, it fast befriends it
shake the room—shake SHAKE the room!
the house of our convictions doomed
Ooo-Oooming and Ooo-Oooling it is looming it is drooling
parasite of false proportions
you unwelcome, freak distortion
over-stayed you guest this host
Gonna get you ouT . . . . almost.
YOU ARE READING
Poems for Morbid Children
PoetryThis is a collection of some of my more curious and macabre poems. Many of my poems play with words, the sounds and shapes of them. However, I often attempt to delineate emotion and sensation I cannot otherwise word, or I take inspiration from legen...
