Frankie Bones

brain dead dandy,
candyman in leather
spanx
,

got a blood moon orange crush
on giving head to
sherman tanks-

no thanks, dollar daddy
smoke blowing cancers
all through this
tune,

hands up, boy-
n back the fuck away from
from sugar spoon.

copper burnin’ rubber,
squealing piggies
flee the bank

you just name
me you,

and i’ll call me
patchwork
Frank.

image: https://www.retirementsingularity.com/seven-ways-frankenstein-relates-to-singularity/

image: https://www.loomshowroom.com/shop/c/p/MM53-Gallery-Skulls-Dracula-Frankenstein-Gothic-Quilting-Cotton-Quilt-Fabric-x4718361.htm

heart tucked underarm

inspired by ‘Man on Crutches’ painting, by Paul Cavilla.

if it’s not love,
don’t touch it-

not near prepared to,
read the feel,

cause these winks at
loving feelings have rarely
cut the peel so real.

if she’d only spare some
change for mercy to
deal me the feel of
realer touch-

I may not ask as much,
only stable with
a crutch,

image: https://pixabay.com/users/pexels-2286921/

image: http://paulcavilla.com/man-on-crutches-2/

Moonshine the Monkey

mutilation of
blessed bounty

and they’ve started
waxin’ up the
plank-

congenital formation
amputations to fill in
doctor’s blanks-

inner gamblers swerve astray
fog rollin’ bones like
skipping stones
on boulders

off kitchen counter
hourglass shatters millions
‘cross the floor,

does it make your
moonshine monkey wanna
stomp and thrash about?

so, did you ever find
what your heart’s been
so full without?

image: https://pixabay.com/users/mysticsartdesign-322497/

image: https://pixabay.com/users/esudroff-627167/

clutching cloud

papa’s smoke sighs-

boy, you float on life
through waves, clutched
that loser’s cloud-

i’m lettin’ balls drop
to dreaming grass, soaked
demon ravine ’til
sirens STOP
.

he spit on my floating,
as though wrongest
of feeling-

taints skies ‘neath
rotting ceiling
.

rather i lie
through the eyes, and
die somewhere
inside

heart’s wallpaper
peeling
.