The Beast and the Web

The Beast and the Web

The Beast and the Web

A Poem by Mark G Pennington

I’m thinking about it again,

Obsession or a naked violence,

Chains the body;

Esurient Imagination, the pedal pushers;

Full on lust and coffee,

Crushed with Kona Hawaii.

 

 

Waiting in the rain,

I am the pulp to her dead bombazine,

A postcard from sin.

 

Dark angel under veil,

A lifer with the heavy scent,

A moth is drawn and

Married ones say look at me,

Look at me over and over.

 

Ran with prostitutes and soft drugs,

The damselfly can lay up to 300

Eggs at a time.

When she opens her legs

I know what love is.

 

I could be your dog

And suck in my gut;

For a girl with unspoken breath,

Or a woman who lays her ghost.

 

The darkened one, festering,

Hearts pump, undone.

Butterflies on black tar,

Eyeballs like pelting stamens,

Appetites for budding violets.

 

She doesn’t like my body

But offers me her charity,

And I allow her my forgiveness.

 

The train weeps,

She leaves before the moths,

The place full of broken tears.

 

 

"You're Going to Like Me" - NYMBM Talks with Adam Rippon

"You're Going to Like Me" - NYMBM Talks with Adam Rippon

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