2 A.M.

Along a narrow, vacant street at 2 a.m. Underneath the threatening lights of peril An act of fellatio was taking place between A beautiful cigarette and the orifice of my lips Halloween had not yet dawned upon us Yet as I walk Jack-O-Lanterns smile at me Displaying minor quakes of bloodthirsty evil While a serum of scorn soaks my tongue With a heartless trick of ice, cold malice Summoning the entire town to its kneecaps Devils regurgitate lullabies resembling the sound Of nails raping a chalkboard sparing no mercy Arousing the hopeless romantics To awaken a graveyard And fuck the corpses until they're Resurrected from their comas As the nymphomaniacs ice Their frozen flesh with semen Painting an ocean of abstract thoughts Across the edges of their frames of mind Do morticians make up the majority Of necrophilia related crimes? Maybe so but, I bet they had never felt Avagina so dry and so cold Yet still the thrill of chills tickle these criminal's spines While they measure their screams careful not to awaken The beautifully disgusting corpses that lie before them They turn their heads only to find a pair of scarlet eyes Gawking at them from within a cowardly shield of fear Darkness was it's home, Mother to all its desires In my opinion it was just a phase; A massacre encaged By Glenn McCrary © 2011 (All rights reserved)