brand spanking new poem..tonguing the wound

Thanks for stopping by my blog! Next book coming out on the awesome Interior Noise Press. No set date as I am still reassembling my brain...

newest poem, first one I like a whole lot in a little over a year, please share any comments good or bad!

Tonguing the wound

My hatred

Is changing

Making things grow

From the blackened barren ground

Containing soil which I spent hours upon hours digging

Those around me thought I wanted to plant a seed

I simply wanted to hide a bone

But no suitable soil was found

My love

Is forgotten

The word itself written on a piece of paper

A thousand times over

Then crumpled and used to light my last smoke

As I walk my veins throb

Hurting

For a good old fashioned

Bloodletting

The aforementioned ceremony to be attended

By only the finest self-appointed priests, healers, and snake handlers

But when I finally managed to get this pen to paper

To tongue that red swollen mouth wound

The words fell out

Only to shape the notes I wrote into the

Devils chord

And I can’t help but think

None of this would have happened

Had I kept my lazy crazy eye

On my rented out red right hand.

A bone would come in handy right about now

I think where I messed up

Was by not cauterizing the wound

After the big show

In fact a fire

Might have saved us all

From myself.