I Can’t Get Enough

 

I love you

with all the twisted desire in my addict heart

I crave your touch like needle kisses

veins full of junk, tracks on my back

from your nails

I can’t get enough

My hands snake across your naked skin

moist, hot, rising and falling

I inhale your fragrant moans

chasing dragons down your throat

feeling bliss and finding hell in this love triangle

I can’t get enough

I’ve sworn off you.

But I know how that ends:

in the melancholy songs unsung by vibrant and contented beings

I get high, when you’re nearby

I taste violence in our wrathful exchanges

poison, jealous barbs and sexual sparring

I can’t get enough

I hug you, embrace you, try to stuff you into my darkness,

hoping to fill up the cold void in the grave of my heart,

longing for some unknown freedom I think I’ve tasted

on your lips, or from the bottle or the barrel or the pipe

You know I can’t get enough.

Haiku Anyone?

A Casual Death

You dangle by silk

Trailer park brute smashes you

Little white spider

 

A Mentor

Tree roots break concrete

With constant timeless patience

This I want to learn

 

Awakening

Lucid Dragon wakes

Dancing in the moonlit night

Sand beneath my feet

 

A Savage Rite

Gather to sip blood

And eat the flesh of their god

Sundays at the church

 

About the Author

In a punk rock band

I pluck bass guitar and scream

It helps me relax

Johnny’s Dead

Death he came a-callin’; he said, “My boy it’s time to go.”

I looked up from my bong hit and said, “Wait a minute, bro.”

“This weed I have is sticky green and stony as can be.”

“How about you cop a squat and smoke a bowl with me?”

Death he scratched his boney scalp and set aside his scythe.

“I suppose I could take a couple rips before I take your life.”

Now I was scared but played it cool and packed old Death a bowl.

“So,” I asked, “where am I going when you cut loose my soul?”

Death he grinned and flicked my Bic and took a deep breath in

And pointed through the floorboards down at the place of sin.

“Fuck it,” said I and we finished that bag, both stoned to the core,

Then Death pulled back his hood and asked, “What’d I come here for?”

I patted my roommate on the head, who’d passed out from drinking beer.

“I believe you said when you came in, you wanted Johnny here.”