ATE

I ate all the edgelords, fed their little fingers
to my five daughters, each wiping streaks
from their incisors, mother-of-pearl.

Relevé

I too was bed-bound, strung on canvas and flayed–
an effigy in purple gas, a dry carcass.
Mescaline spook in the Nitsch abattoir.

Debased waif, hoarse in the dust.

In confinement I grew hungry.

Entrée

These teeth tasted all the most unwanted sons!
I learned from the best:
Inversion ritual.
Jaw on glass.
His thrust to Assück.

Shard potage steeped in brown bitter grass.

Dry White
Bloodful, my old calves muscled thick,
climbing rust walls by grey herringbone–
I sliced red rope from their iron beds to give them each a lasso.
Cut them out. Frame after frame: Gallerina giallo, e-girls,
puckered Kern-core faces smeared in stiff gesso ripple.

The gold dagger with a lion’s head.
Blow gun: Sput sput.

Meet la coquette ancien.

Babies let me tell you about these men.

Roast

Always 40-odd combover creeps tracing skinned chicks.
Stunted tongues. Only rings of charcoal where a mouth was.

They call it “Dark Enlightenment”:
Click-thru goon to a dim-lit Finnish sadist basement. Or:
Gem tears forming on cold-cut girl lips. Moldova VPN hunting:
Is it haunted? Is it haunted snuff? A green, distended just-so,
Abu Gharib draping on a fine calf covered in hose. You know: The algo.
No one tracks you here.

Soft twine on throat: Tug here to disappear.
And they’re waiting to be depicted.
And they’re waiting to be picked.

In a fever dream, Ren Hang asks for directions
at the Tallinn two-hour photo.

Digestiv

What is the worth of a cut without a frame? A frame without a cut?
Babies I return your sodden breath from the warped rooms of toe-suckers
Whose work centers on the perversion of cultural debris
Only
you
have
life.

We rip that linen into tablecloth for a banquet.
Shoot sets, plundered for a stained St. Andrew’s cross
to make pit fuel, slow. Spin, spit! Carhart coveralls, nylon black, twine.
Sticky fingers mark ashes on marshmallow.

When all our faces are flush in orange light,
I ease wriggling spoonfuls of simp marrow.
Fed, long: My daughters will not bleat when he comes. They will run.

Trailing a smell of oud on wet concrete.
All five like the points of a summoning circle.
A carbuncle of stars that forms in the void.
Burrowing under tree roots in the river.
Crawling toward his ankle with a knife.