deepundergroundpoetry.com
These bleeding cards are bountiful
take my tattooed wings
eat my peccancy
and rape my licentia vatum
with a wax encased smile
upon the miffed skull
I walk a jigsaw path
into the pabulum
of Hades
nipple
as protagonists of baronial chaos
snatch the quelled umbilical
within a sitting martyr
as dawn performs fellatio
on Luna's spicket
an indolent vision
trickles encrypted chicane
into the scepter
of a bespeckled specter
as gehanna grins,
a crescendo
of fallen sparrows
shift through
taciturn scars
as they stand
wrapped in vainglory
while a belabour matador
indexes
the gilded
gore
of this
picayune
town's
sabled fable
molested
by a sodomizing
cardinal
spiraling
within the ersatz
fin
of a
aureole equinox
slipping
into
a
bleeding abyss
within the spruce womb
we ride a carousel
erected from serpentine intestines
placing the fetus
in the diseased hollow
of a wooden
shrine
as the slaughter
pays fetal fealty
to the liturgies
of Crowley
three bodies
piled entwined
in these
rolling hills
as the sons
blood
dries upon the
fathers
hands
and in my
iniquity
I stab
the
inverted rood
as the leaning oaks
turn a stoned stare
into the crossroads
of cossart road.
eat my peccancy
and rape my licentia vatum
with a wax encased smile
upon the miffed skull
I walk a jigsaw path
into the pabulum
of Hades
nipple
as protagonists of baronial chaos
snatch the quelled umbilical
within a sitting martyr
as dawn performs fellatio
on Luna's spicket
an indolent vision
trickles encrypted chicane
into the scepter
of a bespeckled specter
as gehanna grins,
a crescendo
of fallen sparrows
shift through
taciturn scars
as they stand
wrapped in vainglory
while a belabour matador
indexes
the gilded
gore
of this
picayune
town's
sabled fable
molested
by a sodomizing
cardinal
spiraling
within the ersatz
fin
of a
aureole equinox
slipping
into
a
bleeding abyss
within the spruce womb
we ride a carousel
erected from serpentine intestines
placing the fetus
in the diseased hollow
of a wooden
shrine
as the slaughter
pays fetal fealty
to the liturgies
of Crowley
three bodies
piled entwined
in these
rolling hills
as the sons
blood
dries upon the
fathers
hands
and in my
iniquity
I stab
the
inverted rood
as the leaning oaks
turn a stoned stare
into the crossroads
of cossart road.
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