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Bastard entomon.
I curse you, I detest you.
I dream your disembowelment.
Just the thought of your
Writhing
Flailing
Pathos
Graspings for last breath Thread.
Feeds my
Bloodlust.
O rapture!
I found you
Wounded
In
Thoracic
Convulsion.
And I knew:
Here...
Now.
How invidiously I seduced You
To accompany Me
To the Cistern
Of Damnation.
And then...
(Pulsation quickening from Cantor to Gallop
Breath stipples to Delicious Orgasmic Ripplings)
I pulled the chain.
Swirling and twirling in the
Suctioning gyre.
O I flushed, yes I flushed!
Watching you thrust
your stinger mightily
...as a Roman tribune
Surrounded by a circlet of iron Pagan blades
Till Final, Fatal
Plunge.
I could not bear to Honor you,
But I could not Escape the imprint
Desperation
Of your drowning Death Throes
And the Magnitude of
My Delight...
...Gacy, Dahmer, Bundy
Must have resembled
My Reflection
In the wake
Of each
Fresh Kill.
So truly
Was there a
d
i
f
f
e
n
c
e
?
I pondered long and hard
F i f t e e n minutes
Of Hell on Earth.
Only disturbed by the Brush
Of Silken Filament
Guide wire to Woven
Filigree...
...And Big, Fat Mama
Sweet, Juicy Arachnopod
Kindles neonatal
Salivation.
The maw of the town
Seemed gutted
Ordinary shrieked
In syncopation
With vanilla contempt.
Running from the scavengers who would
Take all of my nothing
Had tempered my penchant for '96 Cristal
The Super 8 beckoned
Such well-fattened bedbugs!
But the selling point
Was that back staircase
And my Swiss Army knife skill
The last time I used this
Was that pathetic fat trucker
Who doffed pants at first sashay
And then wept, Jew anew
Yes poorer but purer...
... and to wifey 'ere true.
Yes! Mickey D dumpster
A feast of half nibbled McSomethings
And with last napkin pit pat
High time fer that fortnight
Hot shower sublime.
When I entered the bath pit
Damn toothbrush in ruck sack
But the door had locked shut.
And remarkably tight.
Oh the water had the
pressure of a toddler
with sniffles.
If you live poor long enough
Everything makes you laugh.
In the middle of sudsing, goddamn
Electric went flatline
The only sound to be heard
were feint
drips and my breath.
Ochre clouds promised rupture
They were not bluffing
Upsurged, roar of torrents
Pummeled thin tarmac hide
The gash of glass shattering
Valhalla's volvic penché
Ice stab decimation
décor de la pauvre qualité
Sounding slaughter of pièce de motel
bon marché
I plunged deep into keyhole
Knife whirring as router
But with two twists
The blade
Split scything
vermilion soaked palms
Then a noise, eh a footstep?
Whatever was
Nearing
Fuck, I prayed
For appearance
Of anything human
Even cops on the prowl
Anyone! I Bloodily vowed
Would be better than the surety
Of frozen vein severed black howl.
As if Heavenly Kiss
The room door moved softly
I begged and I bleated
I sobbed and I pleaded
Feeling fresh throated ripped sinew
Then suddenly
You.
"Good King Wenceslaus"
Blaring at decibels that consumed
Mezzo-soprano and basso
Fortissimo, Engulfing new
Whimper, child-like, entombed
...the bathroom creaked wide
"Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine logs hither
Thou and I will ON HER dine
When we bear HER thither."
I smelled the new pine wrap round
garroted
gullet
Blade wedged in hilt through
Watching guts all a' steaming
quite the empurpled hue...
And then, you know the rest
Nothing left save bring home
The Lamb.
To fatten and fest.
Yuletide's true meaning ...
Finally,
come true.
Constance Stadler has been writing, publishing, and editing poetry from the 'prehistoric' epoch of print journals to modern e-times. She was a former editor of South and West and is currently a contributing editor to the e-zine Eviscerator Heaven. Her most recent work appears in Ditch, ken*again, Pen Himalaya, Rain Over Bouville, Clockwise Cat, Hanging Moss, Neonbeam, and Gloom Cupboard. As a political anthropologist specializing in North Africa and a violinist, her influences are multiform. Work in formative years with the late poet Gwendolyn Brooks was seminal, but so was Sufi Dervish dancers, and the challenges of mastering Bruch's first concerto.