Inspired by this and this. 😈 Lest I forget this, since this poem was written in 2017.
i ate my son
i felt his gauzy bones bend
and crumble beneath my teeth
as I chomped and fed
the murmured muscles
threaded betwixt my teeth
and I grasp the collapse
in the tang and hotness
as his skin slides down
my elongated gullet
i ate my son
the baneful twist and mire
spirals thru my algid blood
like dark matter
and lacerates my core
like acid
i ate my son
to fill a need
an artifice agent
the common, the must
the fatal system
it bleeds, it hones
and recurs
in a dogged pattern
and a cutting song
i cannot correct
i ate my son
he tastes so good
the bitter broth of his blood
a tradition born of poison
and potent decay
the waste and wan
the fallow, it haunts
it is undone
i ate my son
his eyes unseen
the milky blues
and blacks
and greens
i ate my son
he did not stir
his flaws are his
and ours
each and everyones
i ate my son
it is complete
the scales of his hooks
claw thru my frame
and flail against this purge
i ate my son
this burden is his
and ours
each and everyone
i ate my son
i am now alone
a cure improbable
a planet bare
i ate my son
hope now gone
horror and despair
and extinction remain.
By Pamela Mullins
Copyright © 2017 Pamela Mullins. All Rights Reserved.
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