My Ars Poetica: A Different Kind of Animal
 

Nothing turns a stomach
               like the rancid aura that
                              cradles the furry carcass of a life that once was.

Exposed flesh can push
               anyone’s boundaries, but is it
                              unsettling enough to make you feel sick all over?

Maybe you know it’s not
               that bad because you know when
                              it comes down to it, everyone has to eat something, right?

What will really sicken you to the core?  
              Watching a body count of innocence grow,
                              a bigger fish slaughters for sport, an impulse that transcends hunger.

I am the bigger fish.

Poetry is unique to a human
               as the motive is to a crime,
                              as the grieving is to a loss.

This is what my poetry means
               to me, this is an abduction
                              of vowels and consonants and I am holding them hostage on this page

not because I need to
               but rather because of the cynical satisfaction from
                              butchering the English language in any damn way I please.

I present to you my unadulterated 
               art, an insanity cultivated in the
                              darkest parts of my soul: a different kind of animal.