7
(4 votes)
Rating | Rated by |  | 8 | Unknown | |  | 6 | Unknown | |  | 6 | Unknown | |  | 8 | Unknown | |
You must login to vote
|
|
|
NB This was an experimental style and theme of writing that I engaged tried out about a year ago. It is safe to say that this is NOT for everyone. All opinions - positive or pointed - are welcome. I will be posting episodes on a serial basis.
Staked to a cracked and splintered plank an angel whimpers to the burred, rusted spikes. One by one feathers are wrenched from flaccid wings. Celestial terror flashes in it's eyes between the shards of pain when the white hot steel cauterizes each wound. Pan Angelicus bursts in broken sobs from it's mouth during the intervals between tearing and searing.
The Poet screams Byron through canyoned bleeding lips to distract from the familiar agony of his evisceration by a bloodstained Dove. He imagines a smile on her chipped and blunted beak as she dives into his tattered belly for another slithy morsel.
Holding the blowtorch in his left hand he applies the flame to his right bicep. He closes his eyes and smiles listening to his skin sizzle and pop. Inhaling sharply he breathes the smoke from his crackling flesh. Chuckling he envisions the weeping wound and coming scar.
I am Monastic Vice
I inspect my Roman experiment locked in his gibbet suspended from the ceiling. Rounded stumps mark the places formerely occupied by hands and feet. Dried leather bands wrapped tightly above his knees and elbows have already turned the meat below them black. Soon these too will fall away to putryify on the floor of his cage next to the fragments of his other apostate parts.
A beautiful young jewess floats scalded and naked in a vast tank of water. So gradually has the water been heated that she would not know of her glacial boiling were it not for the angry red chunks of sloughed skin that bob along the surface with her.
I carve the word love into her breast overtop the scars of earlier seductions. Barbs on the knife's edge tear and rip the skin as the blade exacts it's tribute.
I am Monastic Vice
------ But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? / If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? - The Bloodhound Gang Hell Yeah
|