Set the scene upon clean stainless steel
with an airy yeast dough
to form the white, virginal alter.
Chant the words to
whatever god you believe
then paint the flesh red.
Scatter meats of questionable origins
slaughtered by another’s hands,
then cover with a shroud of delicate cheese
to hide the unholy mess.
Bake for an eternity
at hell degrees centigrade.
Guillotine and enjoy
the black ash that covers your fingers.
The soot of a mass cremation.
The first poem in this series is Poetry Blitz. There were food trucks at the event we were drinking at. One was a pizza truck with a brick oven. They had a “meat lovers” pizza called “The Slaughtered Pizza”.
We did not order that pizza.
Instead we got the “Bronze Dragon” — a equally epic name for a pizza.
Bronze Dragon Pizza
In other news, I have a blue carrier pigeon now (aka Twitter, but carrier pigeons are so much cooler). You can follow my carrier pigeon at @sm_saves.
Dropping bombs in a different universe
Smearing grease on the pages
It’s a poetic blitzkrieg
X drinks in
and Black Widow spiders
Writing like the scribes of old
Starving, head waltzing
Too many just-a-little-ones
to achieve a clairvoyance
of how this night will end
better published on a bathroom stall
Tomorrow I pick through the rubble
of my poetry blitz
But tonight, I revel in the poetic bliss
I had been looking forward to my town’s yearly beer-and-wine-tasting-for-charity event. I was interested in what kind of gobbledygook I would write, so I brought along my pocket notebook.
Last night, drunk me wrote spirits and partials of poems, for a project I’ve entitled “Poetry Blitz”. Now it’s up to sober me to assemble the pieces together and fill in the blanks. And, yes, sober me referenced two works by Dorothy Parker in this finished poem. Sober me felt rather clever.
Drunk me’s drunk calligraphy
In another state of mind, a dear friend of mine has returned to the craft. I hope you will take the time to visit the Spiral Artist at https://spiralartist.wordpress.com/. Let him know I sent you over.
I accept apologies
in the form of fine chocolates and wine
their flavors accented with your blood
Within these walls
reside broken gods
cast from their pedestals
left to ruin
all who practice
within their dreamscape
Awash in Viking’s blood
candy painted foxes
frolic upon waves of peacock feathers
who fall from the starless sky
How far you float
depends on the tea you drink
from ritual writing
to cultivating the ingredients
Blink and become the sacrifice
to the bewilderment
of all chemical based things
that crumble into atoms
at the base of rusted pedestals
to the broken gods
I hope you enjoyed the ride. Please let me know how you feel.
I have called myself many names
Mostly proper nouns
I was a twin — not a Gemini
A duo who went solo
I’ve been blue that turned to something darker
I’ve circled my eyes with coal
Face streaked with the crimson of imagined enemies
Each new self replacing the old
Always an arm’s length from the ones peering in
I don’t want to be known
Let me be the shadow cast on your mind
If you get scared but want to hold my hand
Reach for me; it’ll be fine
It will be safe enough for all of us.
I’ve been looking for an excuse to use this Pexels photo. Looks like tonight’s the night.