the murder record

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the music plays
the murder record
spinning scratching
roaches crawling out
of splitting skin
splitting apart her thighs

the stars in the sky direct their
maddening stomaches
bloated with nightmares
melting apart in
schizophrenic heatstrokes
carried by a flock of
oncoming medical needles

the murder record scratches
louder than a warhorn zipper
wielding one flaming dipper
dipped in the bright red blood
of her spread apart
obliterated skinned-alive thighs
caked in brown splotches of
roach guts
smeared all over
the walls the bathroom
where the bloated corpse
bobs up and down
in a filthy bathtub overflowing
with pink spaghetti intensities
rhythmically throbbing
like knives

the murder record
spews out as
chunky vomit
from the gramophone's
severed kidney cream
sundae --
meanwhile,

crawling from out
of the bathtub,

dragging themselves
towards the window,

the pink
throbbing intestines
slither
like intertwined
inside-out serpents
squelching
out of the window
in search of another
dead host;

the murder record plays again
and again and again
while i engorge my papyrus
lungs with black flames.

(untitled) -- a collection of experimental poetry [COMPLETE]Where stories live. Discover now