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charred evening
by Jeremy Magee
it was nothing short of
an ancient evil, twisting
the sinew of machine and metal,
this neck rising above
a stench whose name was not uttered
in the very pit of its creator.
nameless, it opens a jaw that
creaks from floor to the peak
of my awakening fear,
a murmuring hate growing beyond
the scope of shadow, the heat
that flame cannot reproduce.
consuming first my foot,
the sluggish tear, the dismembering
of foot from leg, wet pain
clawing at my stomach,
a drunk rush of blood to my mouth,
until it pours out, sound stopping short,
i am ended with no noise.
06/28/2009 Author's Note:
My dog knocked over the trash can and half ate the rotten remnants within. It was disgusting.
Posted on 06/28/2009
Copyright © 2010 Jeremy Magee
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/24/09 at 02:25 PM Gees, you had me going. My imagination was sparked gathering images from a recent tv program I saw about the making of the old and the new Panama Canal, the huge cranes scooping up tons at a time. Yours is a creative description of an ordinary occurrence (if you've got pets that is). Excellent. |
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