words

the red army bleeds
from out my skull,
charred and smoking
in the midnight black,
each little red devil
carrying some terrible thought
out into the ink.

tearing open the night
they claw and chew
through and through
the raw matter of this,
each little red bastard
laughing at me,
dragging my delirium
out into the ink.

the bone monsters,
criminal journeymen,
carnival mayhems
from this brain horror,
marauders conjured
by chemical process
and medicinal invocation,
chasing my echoic mania
out into the ink.

-S.C. Martinez