The Dandy

Cat without tail

Mane without male

The gayest of garden parties

Why, then, are we mortal enemies?

Substantial and sturdy

Yet mostly unworldly

Death brings back the gossamer prince

My pride is wide and vast and far

I go deep into the world's crevices

In the darkness, I flourish

Easy bruises beget resilience

How To Eat Your Own Tail

Toes wriggle in a pile of worms

Someone's screams are eaten by slime

All is gone, all is new, all is consumed

Lyme is only tasty if it is not concrete

Pour a pound of sugar in and ruin the whole batch

Teeth fall out of mouths at the sound

A king falls from his sandcastle

Salt eats at the bones

Calcifying, fossilizing, philosophizing, ostracizing

Like people over time

Boards replaced, is it the same?

Casting an anthill with gold

Someone was here

Scream decaying walls covered

In ash and fear and pain, the scent

Lungs filled with the earth's core

What's inside a name, and who decides?

Are we all born with predestined sounds ascribed to us?

Is it a secret code, telling where, and why, and when?

Do the names we wear accessorize us with personality?

I cannot in good conscience not have One

Tooth

Mouth stones, mouth bones

Show our inner spirit

The smell more than anything

Fanciful tymiers steal away

What we once were and return with

False gold, tokens with strange meaning

Teeth taken

Teeth taken, tooth taken

Taken to the timely tymiers

To treat them torridly

Trying the tasty traxis

A vital part of any vocal symphony

An attempt at sophistication

And maybe they succeed

The cloudiest days are the brightest and it frightens me

Perhaps that is why I prefer them

Diffused light paints a more realistic view of reality

Than the lying bright beams that warm the world

Cloud cover comforter accumulates, cumulous in the sky

The world takes a nap and,

Now whatever happens is surreal

We are in dreamland under the clouds 

Wyrm

eating dirt

changing name

becoming what I once Became

Changing Life

Eating Death

Once you're gone we're all that's left

Take my slimy nonexistent hand

and land in the land where 

nothing blinks or moves

take the trees and grind them down

take the stones and grind them down

take the leaves and grind them down

take your bones and grind them down

Is not the worm the king of all things?

Eldrichian god, all consuming

all knowing, it eats our knowledge

and what does it do with it?

eating dirt

Would You Still Love Me?

If I where a worm...

To be a worm is simplicity. Dirt to dirt, and nothing else. The cycle of life ends with a wom, and yet it also begins with a worm. They are slimy, and disgusting, and we fear them, to some extent. The creepy crawlies that lie unknown under the surfaces we dare not touch. But to me, at least, worms bring joy. Give me a better feeling than seeing tons of little squirmies come out after a rain, or helping a little lad get to a moist spot.

Worms are small, weak creatures, yet if you cut one in half, like a hydra beast, you simply get two worms. Some of the most deadly things on the planet are just worms.

Just... worms.

Oftentimes I feel like a worm, small and insignificant. Other times I wish I was a worm. Mighty, unfeeling, and brainless. We all admire the worm, to some extent, and perhaps even worship it. The worm gives, and takes, completely unthinking to us inconsequential humans.