Scares and Scores

Spinning needles, bursting threads,
you think it scares me if you scream
off with your head?

It doesn't. I get elated
when screams
lube schisms.
I am uplifted
by the tearing out of 

hair
tone
moaned songs
that scar upper thighs

I like to be scared,
not as an ongoing state
but as a slap,
a shock. Make me shed,
shuck all this slick
attribution       

memory
of the berths
in which I dream lyrical phantasmagoria
fantastic illusionary writhing
horticulture by lens
bliss by whip

if we were an elaborate
and sensuous metaphor
if we were attainable
the pathos squirming
from the myth

octopus hearts of three
reseeding throbs

sniffing snuff
lobbing strange liberties 
into the placental feeding tube
brimming with tentacles, hooks,
tainted jaws, ripped paws.

Pause and then applause.






Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver and purple explosions. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications, most recently including Arsenic Lobster, Diode, ILK Journal, Menacing Hedge, and Tarpaulin Sky Press. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.
j/j hastain is a collaborator, writer and maker of things. j/j performs ceremonial gore. Chasing and courting the animate and potentially enlivening decay that exists between seer and singer, j/j, simply, hopes to make the god/dess of stone moan and nod deeply through the waxing and waning seasons of the moon.