Grip of the Moment

we ghost most gently through the underbrush
slip behind boulders and always upwind
they often remark we're invisible
but we're only quiet and trim
stalking and scouting is our fortress
whenever the forecast is grim



Coalescing finally drifting down
our blood begins to boil
what strange and unexpected reward
for our endless, aimless toil
back to that start, square one it seems
again we're down to this
familiar: We'll be in the blood
as we retreat to mists



In other worlds at other places
maybe things will get inflected
hewing wood or looping braces
paralyzed in a dreaming maze
as starter pistol begins the races
trapped we are the minotaur
all manners devoid of kindness, graceless
we're petrified and diamond hard



It remains again this reconnoitering
entombed, ensconced within this womb
no hasty weaver's shuffle-clack clattering
bold argent chases our emerald cocoon
was a simple dugout blind hide for recovering
but now it's more prison than hospice room

A Toothy Nadir

burnt out like delicate cinders on dark water
snuffed silent light to black
briefest joy and pleasant things
we can't ever get them back
pain is ever-present companion to all
that is how each life goes
we're scarred from all the fighting for sure
all scar from toes to nose



we'd take all of history and break it with a snap
we've got the means and the filters, gels, and notions....
if it meant one moment more with her on her back
in between our involuted desert and her ocean
looking up at us lazily like we were just a snack
we no longer remember how to miss our emotions...




Thirty three make a xylophone
Eight hundred's what you've got
a clattering toy like a barrel of bone
we suppose you'd rather not
go down that trail back to your home
it's just full of dead bodies and rot




we cannot catch you on the wing
but we can arrest your flight
there's no hiding place we cannot find
we hunt all day and night
so wriggle more, oh scaly worm
are your bindings getting tight?
try relaxing or dying instead
we trussed you up just right.




blood and smoke and what is this
disorder down in the camp we see?
hush now, reptile, do not hiss
be quiet and we'll set you free
let's check your knots, oh we insist
we'll have to part ways briefly...

The Emptiness Habitual

Hissing dripping water sounds
resound around this hollow town
where rain is falling constantly
through dark gutters and along the eaves
what dull and claustrophobic lives
like insects scurrying about a hive
streetlamps reveal their agonized eyes
we'll all feel nothing after we die




we would hunt a wizard, a warlock
a witch or a hag in a hut
a farmer or a longshoreman
whoever our blades can cut
we had no purpose for so long
(perhaps even a week!)
but now we're next to whom we belong
and in her shadow we will creep




Listing limping we've been shot
a broadside hit our weakest spot
we've no idea how much time we've got
we've been ages at sea on our dreadnought
avoiding all ports — this ship is hot
but now we need a safe dry dock
or at least a shoreline cum parking lot




This weather is very unseasonable
it's making many go mad
to be stuck inside in midwinter
why that's just like every previous one we've had
but to be paralyzed by the summer heat
the blazing orb that lurks above
why that just stinks of rotting meat
and it's no time for love




a mottephobic autumn eve
millers bang inside
paper lanterns strung below
slick rooftops where we hide
the rain it pours down endlessly
we barely notice anymore
we're here to hunt our only purpose
it's only murder we're used for



speaking of witches and monsters and such
we took her daughter and left in a rush
she will pursue us all the way back to camp
we'll smash up her egg as she's choked in the damp
make her an omelet and serve it for lunch
here, scaly sand witch: Name her then munch.

Sacred Geography

We dart among the green ribbon
our blood muddy and eyes closed
feeling along the riverbottom
grasping rocks with our fingers and toes
the howls fade out into the desert
as the night here draws dark and close
This is our fortress, our serpent kingdom
water deceives the bloodhound's nose




We live in the eye of an endless storm
it's hot and windy as hell
all night and day an infinite swarm:
cockroaches in every well
on gusts the songs and blood are borne
and often we hunt by smell
In this place that we call home
all manner of monsters dwell




Regarding them, they are monstrous
lumbering and rotten like zombies before us
Dead eyes gone, looking empty
shutters drawn hearts full of envy
Yet we're told this is how it should be
Sedentary, divorced from all our instinct
... pardon us if we violently disagree
Reminding us, we're a dancer
moving our feet to the rhythm of Cancer




We're not in pain you are you are
these are simply battle scars
yes they're weeping yes it's blood
no worries 'less it becomes a flood
we lick our wounds and hide our pain
as lightning comes with summer rains
for in winter the hunt is lean
Fall's what's left for us to glean



Close as we can't get
an edge we keep on pushing forward
mind as black as jet
We think of nothing leastwise untoward
our soul feels like a pet
compulsive always focus outwards
if we could we would just let
out our skull to someone boring



If we had an hour to kill within
a carriage or anything else
the relevant matter would simply be
who is left on the shelf?
after we're done, not depending
on the size of the car
the floorboards will be soaked and heavily creaking
with all the corpses there are!



we ride these waves of passing passion
keening when there's grief
we are not only sudden action
but also police and thief
In our hearts there is an ocean
of every mask there is
If we wear one with devotion
then only We exists




we'll take you easy we'll take you hard
then serve you up to Hildegaard
it's your choice, you can run
you'll only make it much more fun
you can hide for a while
or take a headstart of many miles
we're relentless if unfocused
we'll split you open you like a crocus
a blossom of blood we will draw
on the ground where you fall




we're in a thunderstorm, it's midnight
and yet nothing has begun
as if we're a buoy, host to barnacles
floating untethered in the sun
upon the endless sandy dunes
of this sere, arid high ocean
surrounded by mesquite and cholla
chock full of ruins and bombs




love eternal is within
be true to us then we begin
deconstructing every motion
every look and glance
to their eyes of great devotion
with ours which ever dance
looking over every wrinkle
every pore and hair
this tough nut will be our winkle:
their presence gives us air

Licking All Wounds

stillness surround before the dawn
the changing of the guard
we wait to ambush anything
to bring back to our yards
these patient times, these moments
as the night watch falls asleep
are a perfect hour to find a victim
upon whom we will leap!



We are made of three parts we are
a trio hunting pack
A head and two arms with which to hide
our heart behind our back!
If we proceed and cannot lie
we must use every crack:
Every crook and every nanny
to evade all attacks




If we look like a target to some
then they can paint a white and red
universal symbol for it
smack dab on our forehead.
Come real close and take their time
so we can break some bread
We'll grin and slash them ear to ear
piss on them when they're dead




We'll take a tour of tombstones
with our sickles as our guides
through the lands of our Sister, Death
we'll leap and dance and glide!
Oh what merciless pain we'll bring
to expose all truths inside
We'll break the gates and tame three skulls:
'pon Cerberus shall we ride!