Of Mermaids and Nematodes

Muttering madness
mimics insanity,
the ides of utter vanity
give rise to such
quirky and tempestuous
conditions – evidenced by
ticks, the odd shudder
or grunt –
that evoke visions
of nightly nematode
hunting, pride bunting
so stealthily, shrugging off
the sublimation of ego
in lieu of honorific
harumphing.

Be that as it may,
dark nights spent
kneeling, scrabbling
amongst dung and rocks,
the tick tock of dank tendrils
of the earth slyly insinuating,
seeping softly
into brain tissue
awash with nighttime
meanderings in the
watery caverns of
hidden, subterranean
grottos.

Mixing mirth with
miracles,
laughter ascends the
scales, over hills and dales,
Pi being the End
Equation of Creation’s
dastardly dance
with Kali, arms
akimbo, my eyes
rise from the dirt
to witness the perfection
of Stars fallen
to Earth engaged in
the process of
eternal rebirth.

The worms crawl in,
wiggling between fingers
dark with muddy persuasion,
the occasion, a funeral dirge
urging a purge, the evidence
held gingerly, my lips
gently smacking,
envisioning the feast
to come, yum yum.

The sucking sound of
souls drips viscous drops
of organic matter,
splattering my tattered jeans,
boots plopping through
drippings and droppings,
defecating jalopies
banging and booming,
swamplands rife with
crooning loons, and
the promise of
broken winds
skate in, on the cusp
of oncoming day.

The bed calls,
sending sodden sinners
such as I to sleep,
to dream of a nightly
rendezvous with
twin mermaids, cooing
and cackling,
dancing to otherworldly
tunes, we three
diving deep into
unheralded waters,
leaving a smile
on the face
of Neptune’s comely
daughters.

And those earthbound
spirits of unsound merit,
those wily, buckwildin’
nematodes – ever-stylin’ and
profilin’ –
remain free
to fight again, their gummy,
gooey lengths unchained,
whilst I attempt to
make amends,
their rubbery lives
I’ve promised
to end.

And I, gently chuckling,
follow the path of the wind,
the pleasures and delights
of my deepest dreams to
tend, leaving behind
the world of men,
tossing and turning
restlessly, my soul
chagrined, mind
wandering the void
in search of surcease
from sin.

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