Death May Be The King Of Terrors

Each brush stroke of a word painter

Smeared bloody crimson red

Seen through eyes that recognise

The things that can’t be touched

Behind accumulated layers of gore

Where shadows are the surface

What is felt is hidden behind

What is seen 

So your mind fills in the gaps

gives corporeality to the phantom

even as the scalpel ni...

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Eater Of Worlds

Zanni

Sits in front of a mirror

Smears his face with paint

His sad eyes

Come alive

With rings of black

And the white muzzle

Cracks when he smiles

Auguste

Paints a teardrop on his cheek

And swigs

From a bottle

Of broken dreams

The hot liquid

Burns his cackling throat

And warms his cold, cold heart

Harlequinade

Tran...

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