Riposte

I am wild with cosmic hallucinations.
Someone is in my cards, reading me back.
The spread is laughing toward
dripping mausoleums,
talking to me in mad riddles,
which I assume are mine because everything
is mine and
for me.
They attack me,
springing in lustrous succession
into my opal pores,
with star-shined claws,
and moonstone teeth.
Eloquent gashes crack porcelain thighs.
Open and close your mouth
for me to hide inside,
on the deepening firelight of your tongue,
bathing in your venom and
drinking from poison wells,
and empty wine bottles.
Want is good;
but it is not enough.
Be warned, vicious scoundrel,
it is never enough.
You have,
clenched in your jaws,
insatiability endless.
Clothed in gleaming hides;
in priestess mirrors.
Do I have you to blame
for the clusters of mania
glaring down at me
from the four corners?
I try to escape the whirlwind,
but it has faces.
And it wears your mouth,
where I live and breath
in allied amusement.

32 Comments

  1. OK, you reeled me in with the tarot images, and then…wow, this explodes all over the place but in a really good way. Kind of like the controlled burns they do to prevent forest fires.

  2. “They attack me,
    springing in lustrous succession”

    i think why I like these lines so much is because they are for me what poetry is in expression. Even if a poem has no discernible meter to it, really good lines coax a rhythm from directly within themselves. This is a really good example. like like like.

  3. Your imagery is immaculately invasive. This may be your best work, as if it’s possible to rank your poems based on literary or intellectual criterion.

      1. Just honest. There are many people whose writing style I like, but you pour your soul on that screen. That’s not just style. That’s on a deeper level. Glad I found your blog.

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