Five Poems, by S.M.H.

 The first six poems that S.M.H. added to The Eunuch.

 S.M.H.'s most recent collection, published by Void Front Press.

Knives

I see what you do not see

the offal of the crowd

anointed in black varnish

long knives

scraped on the whet stone

sharp as a hawks beak

black varnish

plyed to the forehead

holding in its absent color

the holy of all holy

we must die

because you would not let us live

this is the day the lord has made

let us rejoice

 and be glad

An Opening

there is an opening

the moment the bull enters the man

belly gored

horn sharp crushing

every gentle organ

there is a moment

the eyes roll backwards

the blood coughs

up the throat

the mans eyes roll

towards the sun

the scream drowns

in the gurgling

in the savage pop of flesh

another world is birthed

spurting

from this wound

Gun

fellate the gun

fellate the barrel of gun

fellate the smooth barrel of gun

fellate the cold barrel of gun

fellate flushed in the suckling

face warmed like a hot plate

face burnt like a turkey

mouth puckered

around the shaft

of black steel cooled

by the shade

of its case

fellate the gun

fellate the big gun

fellate the smooth gun

fellate the cold gun

fellate flushed as rosacea

face flushed with the heat

of the fear

and the hardening

resolve

Spree Shooting

the world will bathe in the pig blood of sense

the sense makers will be hung

by the grate of their throat

by the thunk of their trachea

the sense makers will be hanged

 by the gaps in their bones

 by the trunk of themselves

the sense-makers will be cut will be sliced will be flayed

this is the year of the knives

this is the year of the strange bringers

Spree Shooting 2

apostles to towers

with guns

vultures of sun

black wings bright

in the burn of burns

spat spat

with rifles

spat spat spat

with rifles aimed

bullets chewing flesh

mice

scurrying towards

their bleakness

blood black as the bore of rifle

painting the panel of body

the spat spat

babbling terror

made tissue