A bottle of self harm

A bottle
of self harm
to empty
till all’s calm

an injecting
of used pain
to spoon feed
the insane
Typo
monster
Rattling
rusty chains
Gutter link
Missing veins

Trapped inside
the bell tower
sheltering from
a bullet shower

as
lead stares
blindly
ping of the bell

deep

within

the hanging shell

the decrepit monk
holds
STILL
the clapper

While

i read death notices
in the morning paper
Like a battered foetus

the ensnarement
of fat love
morphisms
parallels
self mutilation
Shrinking
escapisms

UGGH

there’s only
cartoon footprints
running
off
escaping
their pencil splints

i syphon
through a pencil
my morning coffee
which always taste bitter
after  carbon toffee

a sonnet
of notes
i write
for the pianist
to smite

i never got
the parable tale
in frustration
i tug on my tail
deep within the towers bowel
i hear the tolling for the vestal
On a Hunch
That’s Back when I turned bestial

©bg 2010