words

it is everywhere.

where the heart should recoil
instead it expands,
fluttering like wings
and what the mind should reject
it then embraces,
wrapping ephemeral arms
around this strange node of coital knuckle.

an encyclopedia of father issues,
volume after volume
the outcome is the same
these fiends on bent knees
sucking for all the world’s mystery
until they are assaulted
by a warm mass of projectile vomit
from cocks the size of arms
welded to men with rape smiles
and sweat in their eyes,
those who would in any other time
be committed to the savagery
of their own noncommittal thread
in a greater tapestry of depravity,
hulking forms shrouded in horror
haunting hillsides and alleyways
with gap-toothed grins
and a pall of madness and degeneracy,
cave dwellers come forth
to instill in others
a fear beyond word or reason.

the far away cast off look in the eyes
of every whore pushing her tits together
and spreading her legs apart,
winking at the camera
and running a venom lined tongue
along the curves of whatever body is near,
whatever appendage of extremity or genitalia
is aimed in their general direction,
with eyes closed they seem at once at peace
and at war with some inner simulacrum
that is weeping and bleeding and sweating
at the very thought of this path.

what medium could hold such an art,
so oppressive and dislocated
and damaging beyond cognition,
imprisoned within the glass of the television
and kept secret in a scrambled flicker,
loading and dancing inside the border
of a web browser, CLICK CLICK CLICK
analcams and incest,
barely legal and amateur cavalcades,
still frames of preview cunts
and monster cocks,
the dead tranquility of innocence
a commodity, a draw for advertising dollars
and underage boys to dwell over in the dark
in secrecy behind closed doors
with the volume low,
the very world a massive venereal disease
and everyone infected, their spines
entwined with red helix fingers
that drip, drip, drip
and nothing can house the beast
that has been let wild,
nothing can subdue the thirst
for its presence and its maniac slaughter
of boredom and fatigue,
it is all a virus that cannot be quarantined
and the world a conglomerate of coughing shaking souls.

-S.C. Martinez