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We All Go Down To Blood Forest
by Terry OlynikWe all go down to Blood Forest
Every night after a gibbous moon.
We all go down to Blood Forest
Just past the greyish disease lagoon.
Round matrons carrying red vinyl handbags
Lusty salesmen awash in Brut cologne.
Identically dressed preteen cartographers
And awkward officers on cheap telephones.
We all go down to Blood Forest
Every night after a gibbous moon.
We all go down to Blood Forest
Just past the greyish disease lagoon.
We learn of blunt force head trauma
We learn of compound fractures too.
We learn of concussions and repercussions
And what flamboyant flesh-eaters will do.
We all go down to Blood Forest
Every night after a full full moon.
We all go down to Blood Forest
Just past the grey disease lagoon.
Everybody has blood on their t-shirts
Now only nine refuse to participate.
But at this exact time next month
I know that number will be down to eight.
02/06/2010 Posted on 02/07/2010
Copyright © 2025 Terry Olynik
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 02/07/10 at 03:49 AM Grim and ghastly a la shades of Agatha Christie's Ten Little Indians, after Tim Burton has clubbed it upside the head...I love it -even if I probably will have nightmares because of it! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/07/10 at 09:11 PM Creepy, crawly - I've got a baaaad feeling here. ;) Loved the forest, the lagoon, the count down. Thanks, I think... |
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