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4.26.2006

my limbic fantasy

Burning for you is my constant state
aching within the feral depths
desiring the carnal knowledge of your body:
I want to consume your essence.

The mind a continuous reel of erotic cinematography
a constant reminder of bliss;
yet a dismal torment in this passionate plane.

Break me of this tortuous cycle,
you have become my fetish
the leather and bondage of my mind
an unholy desire to fufill.

Lingerie and lace
black silk fingertips tracing
my hearts synchronous beats:
you are the drummer keeping time.

You pull my strings
the synaptic connections to the sensual core,
the olfactory stimulous
my limbic fantasy.

4.23.2006

all bleeding stops

A plea to the mothers and fathers:
she is small and weak
a fragile mind encased in an immature shell
she lacks the ability to reason
she is devoid of decision making and action taking.

Thus, you are her hands and strength
you alone are breath and brain
and you alone are the protector of life.

If for even a moment you shirk from your duty,
if for a moment you digress into the days of bedlum
then you succomb to her fate.

You will stand watching strangers
pound life through her chest
bleed bright red blood into her veins
infuse artificial sustinence
and force her little body to live through more pain
at the hands of your stupidity.

An object at rest tends to stay at rest,
while an object in motion tends to stay in motion.

Thus, your child, unrestrained
hurling through life encased in a death machine
speeding toward a rapid deceleration
will tend to stay in motion.

Ejected towards solids, glass, rock, stone, plastic, and synthetic
which rip, tear, shear, impail, abrase, amputate, and mangle.

All bleeding stops eventually.

Prayer will not save you,
do not utter those words in this den of death and pain
he/she/it/they cannot hear your cries and wails within these walls
they are encased in deaths grasp through miles of lead and anger.

Your penence should be sterility,
you failed at your duty and role as protector
you had your chance
when others would die trying to even concieve.

Your punishment should be to join the other watchers,
and see the harm and destruction to which others succomb.
Pin your eye lids open
infuse you with amphetamine
for the twenty-four hour wrath which traverses these doors.

Synapse your cortex with the images
of pain
of their mangled bodies
watching every spilled drop of blood
as life and joy escape their hearts and minds.

For, all bleeding stops eventually.

4.07.2006

traumatic amputation

The pager squeals
through the darkness.
I make my way
and prepare for another changed life.

The words over the radio:
"two year old...traumatic amputation...massive blood loss...ejection...motor vehicle."

Instantaneous fear and dread.

Check my vitals: tachycardia.

Nothing prepares my eyes
nor my memory for the horror.

Wheel her in:
seeping death
a muted cry for help.

Instructions:
1. Insert the artificial sustenance
2. Transfuse life-relieve pain-induce sedation.

We all stand
seemingly in silence,
awed by the shear destruction a hurling mass of metal
and the failure of parental responsibility can create.

She is broken,
the deepest story of travesty
an epic Shakespearean tragedy:
the sanguine plastic
encasing the lost ability
to run into a father's arms.

Scrub away the pain and prepare
the operating room
for it will take all our strength
to heal this tiny angel.

I cry out to the Devils and Gods:
give me the strength
give me the presence of mind
to mend the wounds of her catastrophe.