Wretches – Lee Levinson
October 13, 2021
Syphilitic monasteries cream gumption, frostbit yo
Reckon this and that beneath immolation Gods
Seemly catholics knuckle dance the horah over worms of sediment
Curse the dollar for shoving another overgrown man in my pocket,
As reinvented sundials people Candyland’s ghettoed arteries
I shed in spite of lotioned welcomes and still
Suicide plastics martyr the onslaught gingivitis.
Sticky with salvation residue
Discounted ‘cause premature deaths; cool, cool.
To whose fault but yours,
Jaw of fanfaronade and heuristic dressing
Whomst slapped LED lights upon the cabal
Opportunistic jelly of 7 year olds
Playing dress up under the guise of milky beatitudes.
(Hacked up between fits of phlegmatic exorcisms):
“Never again, again.”
Death Rattle Argot
Mellifluous time-kill hernias the gods of want
In screens of alopecia I wither best
Lambasted under indentured skies to feast the milky
Pristine vestibules of rising dough
So heartfelt with decadent worship
I resent color for its complicitness in
Lo, these cancer nights who rapes
but a breath of bloody nonchalance
Teases luteus hyssop bottom shelf hippocrene
Eschews the head with waxen ease,
My pedestal yearns syrupy happenstance
Mealy congregation slated spy vs. spy
Our socks suicide a folie à deux
Ridding curses of familial lubricant
And I vomit,
Siphoned Couplets of The Damned,
Bled From Inky Curse-ed Hand
Cancer is the kiss we are born wit
Aggravate as you see fit!
Time now to pet the scalp sinewed
Beneath the landlord adorned so crude
No need for Virgil happenstance
Upon this premature grave I gayly dance
To spit such blasphemies to degrade all
Mother’s legs serve none, expel caul
My caul shields I alone from Philistia
Torn toll, dollars want but my Ophelia
Absolute terror, the claim to fame
Brands those few tokens worthy of game
Lowly consumers, art’s pedophile
My syntax glows for you but bile
Poachers of fleur, do reach for stoma
I grift the game, deepthroat my carcinoma.
Nature’s only holy through silhouette
My sweet scars are all I do beget
Do I detect vanilla bean distraction
Painted beneath boot’s hellish traction?
Alas a pigeon-hole wants for none
The name’s formidable, I’ll allow Hun
Shall we pirouette to harken taunt
Our breathe breathed solely to exude haunt
We knife the roof, fingers entwined
As rain slicks our bare behind
“You fuck! You cowardly voyeur!
We scry your judgement as a whore.
I, the clapper erect ‘gainst my bell
To reenact beautiful personal hell
And her sound lovelier than Jericho
Insists our leave, we’ve got seeds to sow.”
Deloused Against All Will
More genocide per lazy tongue fuck, please.
Light shadows itself new gods to taunt
Castration anxiety free samples to go,
The paycheck demands you sculpt now.
Bodies never meant to dictate hours
anymore than Internet, please fear.
Shrouded in flock of so-so,
On screens of Styx
new age skels shit papier mache crowns
Shrieking all is magnificent and necessary
Phooey for fauna
Wayward exoskeletons scratched off with pubis.
It’s time please, gather your architecture and go
Neighing rampart down the concrete guild,
Cheering mites indoctrinated with yous,
Gaudy diapers blaring church bells silent,
(as they should)
Grit flocking your brow anointed iodine,
yes you, the
clitoral hood of stars to shy to shine,
With tossed off band-aides deemed future reliquaries for heathens hitherto,
Shriek the truth of I,
Beauty of Whatever,
In favor of easy tiger
lapping the sweat I garner.
Call Me Shy
I’m teeming with government,
Aftertaste of Midwestern knockoff Chinese.
Soft boi slander weighing Wawa ‘gainst Sade;
Won’t you at least pardon the born cancelled?
I taste dollar store perfume off my cemeteries
You’re gait rings sewage run-off upon the hood
I can’t stop touching the homeless.
You’re what lifetime television is made of. babe.
Sig heil to general Washington.
I don’t mind you dabbling in poetry,
For washcloths stay clean regardless.
Crime 1: We tossed appendages at traffic lights.
Crime 2: You make believe me beliefs.
Crime 3: I inherited death bed floral fabrics for use.
Crime None: Our signatures grow drippy with internet.
“If you pet the grave long enough even the purr sounds sweet.”
Our faulty cognisance betrothed the eve
Dipped salinated knuckles in lye to measure the circumference of consumption
Pickles rained so heavy water became the enemy
“The mass grave business is really picking up! I think I’ll default on my loans now.”
Another god reared his visage like an ironing board aching
Invention of new names to describe what I’d do to the pious
Is this what they scream for in place of knife wounds?
“At least snake-oil salesmen had the decency to travel further than a foot from their armchair.”
All the more sycophants to filibuster a home cooked meal
Hopscotching guilty scissors in tow to don a gilded tunic
Oblivion: the study of still life laced absentia
“The history of the chaise-lounge is rooted in the fear of your type’s bowels spilling upon the floor In the off chance you dare raise your feet in satisfaction.”
You bring the pizza to rival the anal.
Meat-puppet cauldron pantomime for sure shucks the simpleton voyeur.
À rebours: Non-existence ala friendship in the age of anonymity.
I say, bring me the strange on a gilded platter of heatwave isolation.
I say, don’t speak a name unless your uvula outlines itself in chalk.
I say, habeas corpus implies mere vehicles; sans sanctum.
You voice politics to pardon personality.
Shiny bird feeder tantalizing the reptile crushed ‘neath the pedestal deemed soapbox.
Prison sentence: Swig some pappy lightnin’ the whole world sits and spins atop this vestigial tail.
You don’t say; the tingle trickling southward of the spinal cord cross are but the nails you seek?
You dont say; television proffers a lone partner for the young professional too busy to freeze their own seed in defiance of sitcom romance?
You dont say; love is the ultimate domestication of your mother’s bear trap?