I'll gut you like fish you fuckin’ maggots,
The toaster is warm and getting warmer.
I refilled the ketchup-bottle twice,
Looking for a third in the fields, the towns.
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Child Cemetery: Poetry of Jeffrey Merk
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See AllI’ve been picking over her abdomen, Deciding if the fatted calf drinks blood. Something tells me a lot of buffalo Use to drink at...
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We had a cabin up Spider Mountain that Zombie’s Couldn’t get in past the tree line. In colonial America, In the early, parts of the...
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Safe in bed, safe in bed I am! In my cubicle, in hunger And darkness, and stillness, Remembering a winter scene. Trees in a...
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