Fear Has an Hourglass FigureEvery word melted like hot dough in a vat of acid sauce.Fear Has an Hourglass Figure by DerelictVampire
A mouth, gaping like a dead iguana, showed rows of white teeth,
while soft smiles twitched in the upturned corners
of other people’s lips.
For one moment, a human tesseract revealed itself,
unfolding into the universe
like a missionary hearse transporting dead converts.
They were spectators…He was an apotheosis—a becoming
that swept their human faces under the rug
of an ignorance they never knew existed…
even though the dark wrinkles of placid mediocrity
cut through their skin like canyons—the landscape
of their small knowledge so obvious to anyone who looked,
yet so invisible to the walking flesh
that carried worlds within every greasy pore.
You can’t jack up what you don’t have;
every tiny peach of slim reunion
lets another chance pass by…until…
until we stop counting our age in years
and instead mark the number of times we failed to try.
I’m not ~~ years old.
Just Call Him LouI discoverJust Call Him Lou by DerelictVampire
I’m standing over the toilet trying to pee.
I seem to have forgotten how.
I squeeze the muscles around my bladder mechanically,
like a man milking his first cow
without guidance or instruction.
“I’ve seen this in the movies,” he thinks,
and tries to apply that knowledge
with the same lack of finesse
as a teenage boy
the first time he’s got a handful of teat.
The next thing I know I’m falling.
My head bumps against the bathroom wall,
and the toilet rushes up to meet me.
“How do you do, toilet?
Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, good sir,
though I must admit,
you’ve caught me at a bad time.”
“Oh? What seems to be the trouble?”
“Not feeling up to scratch.
I think I’ve caught something.
Mine’s not the most hygienic life, you know.”
I nod sympathetically. “I can't imagine that it would be.”
He continues somewhat awkwardly,
This Isn't DyingI look out my window and whistle.This Isn't Dying by DerelictVampire
“Pretty bird, pretty bird!” My little yellow friend
is here again today, picking at the birdseed I’ve left outside.
This isn’t dying.
My cat watches intently; she’d eat him if she could.
But she’s too afraid to go out; she’s become a shut-in…like me.
This isn’t dying.
I take another blue pill, the only thing that’ll get rid
of the heebie jeebies and make me forget
that I might lose my income
if I don’t answer a questionnaire to their satisfaction.
I have to convince them to leave me alone.
Just let me be and give me money.
I won’t think about my expired driver’s license
and why I haven’t done the simple task
of driving into town to renew it.
This isn’t dying.
Old Beatles cartoons play on my computer screen.
The voices are so off it’s hilarious.
With all their resources,
why did they allow such schlocky commercialization
of their music, t
Dad Doesn't Have a Penis AnymoreDad doesn't have a penis anymore.Dad Doesn't Have a Penis Anymore by DerelictVampire
They changed him from a gigolo to a whore.
We buried his penis by the old oak tree.
Instead of standing up, he now sits down to pee.
Oh, life is strange when your dad's a tranny;
he's got two big breasts and a nice round fanny.
The Red SeaThere's a muscle with a reason.The Red Sea by DerelictVampire
It's red, so I've seen in pictures.
Every cell inside of it contracts and livessome die,
but enough remain to keep the blood pumping.
And from this beating thinga ball of flesh
that never stopsis something we call heart,
a presence that has nothing to do
with the function of its namesake.
A pain factory,
a place where love is born,
feeding on itself when there's no one to give it to,
bleeding through the walls of an unseen prison,
self-contained, twirling in apology:
"I'm sorry" to the world for being a coward,
too weak to play the ancient game of survival,
the one that makes us breed like rabbits,
that spawns a thing called self-preservation,
that gives a power to protect our chosen mate,
the ones we'll never have...
How can I believe in evolution
when I've never grown beyond the thing
that makes perpetuation nothing more than the dream
of a species close to extinction Me...I am the animal...
No wish, no prayer, no
Opal Thin man, opal man.Opal by DerelictVampire
ma, we have no one to blame if we don't believe in Dog.
You feed homeless licks of Catho.
Minor duties shine up their whole blacks.
Someone looks at the little space he feels
and cries when there are no hands to touch things.
I see a dirty blonde woman gluing herself
to the native bricks.
She walks with her tongue
and hisses at us through a chest
WorryI make a preemptive strikeWorry by DerelictVampire
to avoid something
And I feed a crying baby
still tortured in his crib.
I reveal a part of me
that should never find its way into the world.
I'm an idiot, saying stupid shit
that means nothing.
I worry that now I've been exposed,
and all the dark stuff in our tragic histories
pale in comparison
to a moment of strangeness
they can't understand.
It's only what we've known ourselves
that we find acceptable.
Like the clubs in L.A.
I was a freak among freaks
not because I was too dark, too emotional, too chaotic,
but because that place is so pretentious
even the outsiders have cliques.
I worry and apologize,
and no one knows what I'm even talking about.
There's a lucidity in paranoia
eyes wide, the world pouring in all at once.
But before that,
I can see what they feel, what they think
until the point of no return
when it becomes more than awareness,
when the baby takes over
and doesn't care what's real or
LimboNot sad.Limbo by DerelictVampire
But not happy.
Not with or without hope.
In between is the worst to be.
A Gray HairSordid memory heaves dry bones,A Gray Hair by DerelictVampire
wringing hands in circumspect.
Older than adolescence
but still too young to buy a beer,
for a brief time I woke with Dawn
and saw a shiny world.
I believed someday I'd have a dream,
each minute waving like a palm tree
in yet another day without rain
under a Southern California sun.
But the beautiful had no fingers to touch me;
the courageous had no teeth to chatter in my ear.
Sleek convertible waiting for a key
to turn an engine that was never there.
The years passed by; all gone before it started.
Quintessence of a glory seen;
silent gallop of nature's dream.
I'm nothing more than what I was. Less.
This day will be tomorrow.
Crash and burn before ever taking flight.
Turmoil isn't melodrama. It's become a way of life.