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.