poems by Craig Kirchner

         Succubus, Muse

 

I have not written,

as one banished,

amnestied by the promise of a

letter to a one-night stand,

a dull insomniac, numb to words,

writhing in unconscious lust.

 

Zigzagged, diverted

from a lover’s coma

to mystery lips,

a perverted aberration,

wandering, falling again from your fever

in some frozen solitary trance.

 

Awake all night,

wanting morning to heal,

a sinful sweat forms on my face,

soaks the words,

the dawn captures my loins,

thrusts me back to the flushed

 

dead of night woods,

by the wanton bonfire.

I succumb to your pungent imagery,

your wetness,

your nonchalance,

your flesh as mouth and tutor.

 

 

 

Glass Alley

 

There is a raw smell of

city sleet and rain.

The chill wraps the street in

a thin sheet of needles,

as chronic taut muscles

ricket, lumped fetal,

struggle with every tedious move.

 

The mind dilates, swells, floats

through thick, bitter and muddy sky.

Ice and grease lie stagnant in the streets,

sparks rise from burning barrels.

The rats scurry like monkeys,

feverishly scratch and bite infected

tracks on skin shriveled, sugar-brown,

decaying like thawed hung meat.

 

Meth elevators rise to

the next echelon,

synapses shatter, snap,

angels on the roof

shoot soul-sought tangents,

hoping to rape the day,

forget the cold, climb to nowhere.

poems by Craig Kirchner

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Scroll to top