“robot petting”: beneath the fabric / its metal hand bends / fingers deliberately parallel / a rake of static / under strangelove’s glove
he gazed into the black / but the abyss did not gaze back / for the abyss was blind / infinitude, lack #napowrimo
“The cheerleader levels the Daisy rifle at my eye. ‘Be…aggressive,’ she chants quietly, almost to herself. ‘Be be aggressive.’” #VSS
“Vampire Gums”: he looked down with strange relief and terror — / a loose tooth left behind / weirdly twitching / still gnawing in her neck
For @Tweet_Shrieks : “snuffing the oily wick / the Ripper tips his jar / and refills the bulbous lamp / with the blood of the enlightened”
“Insomniac Arsonist”: oblivious to the chill / they snore / as he punches up the thermostat / like a baker at his oven / before heading out
squirm / glisten moist / gleaming in night goo.gl/CW0jz
in a secret bunker / a man with shaking fingers / harvests the stem cells / from the glowing placenta / of a premature baby / new year #vss
“afloat”: we are pulsing like sonar / with limited range / pinging reality / missing the treasures / of the lower depth
“Croak Nut”: An acorn pachinkos down branches — / jackpots into skull hole with a dull dry thud. / It takes a life / time to play again.
facial nerves — / the brain’s tentacles — / so compulsively attracted / to sensing the world / through the gnashing of teeth #MUTTERVERSE
the disturbingly large / collection of swallowed objects / is orderly kept in drawers / that swallow them too #MUTTERVERSE
Billowing uterus / arranged above the double-headed baby / — cord tethered / to a common thought balloon #MUTTERVERSE
tumors manifest / where eyes neglect / and assert a purer beauty #MUTTERVERSE
heads of the miscarried triplets / bob gently beside each other / in the jar / tiny mouths / whispering secret plans #MUTTERVERSE
The Vienna Eye Phantom / gazes / through razored sockets / still holding the ghost of a hundred / surgical practice / cow eyes #MUTTERVERSE
the surgeon’s books / are bound in human skin / to make the opening of it / more familiar, / the carnality of it / more pensive #MUTTERVERSE
on the eyelashes of corpses / death applies / a lovely black / mascara #MUTTERVERSE
vertical sections of face / nowhere to meet the eyes #MUTTERVERSE
among all the bodies and bones / in this open ossuary / it’s the empty jars / and the broken boxes / that most make you wonder #MUTTERVERSE
the wax model / cranes his head back to unveil / lymphatics of the neck / — if his eyes were open / you’d think he had gills #MUTTERVERSE
rats dangle from strings tied to their paws / to display their hollowed excavatum / like they’re clawing their way out of jars #MUTTERVERSE
in the torso study / a spine fans nerves behind its ribcage — / as archaic as a fossil — / a human trilobite #MUTTERVERSE
Human horns are the saddest. / They droop and dangle and disappoint, / lacking all the sharpened power / of demonic tumescence. #MUTTERVERSE
for those who shape deformity / and disease / in wax / the ‘normal’ part of the face / is the hardest part / to craft #MUTTERVERSE
multiple belly buttons — / suggesting simultaneous mothers #MUTTERVERSE
we forgive the dead their dignified nudity — / the mummies in their tattered rags / merely mock the foolishness of fashion #MUTTERVERSE
so many bodies / rigged up and posed in rigor. / So pliably we curl / between the cruel fingers of god and gravity. #MUTTERVERSE
while jotting delicate / black notes on bones / the scientist chuckles darkly / at the label that reads / ‘permanent’ marker #MUTTERVERSE
so many skulls / lined up like soldiers / in bone white helmets / yet one is tilted back / chin raised in abstract defiance #MUTTERVERSE
we bend at the spine / peering through glass / more fragile than bone / aware that our eyes / are the only thing dying #MUTTERVERSE
“Nightmare Heat”: I kick at the sheets / pedaling the fabric / furious / till the cool air finally / caresses my legs / shorn of their skin
“Terrornade”: She sings a song / to slit his throat to — / cutting only on the chorus. / He is still awake, / still alive / on the refrain.
“impressionist”: she paints the head of her hammer red / and smashes skulls / to leave her mark / on bone / after the blood has washed away
“Networked Paranoiac”: Pay no heed / to the stats: / Likes and friends, / they lie! / You know / everyone here / is already / following you.
“Luke, Warm”: she drops his frozen bloodcubes / into a tumbler of vodka / smiling at the bone-sharp crackle / of his rocks in her glass
she felt the ornate urn / above the fireplace / was a fitting resting place / given that she’d brained him / with his god-forsaken / ashtray
hearts never melt — / they just shrink and quiver. / so place a chocolate kiss / in each ventricle / before frying / your valentine gift.
the geyser of blood / lasts only a moment / disappointing the Oil Baron Killer — / but fueling him anyway / for the next drilling
@JustAfterSunset Turn off the nightmares / throw the electrical switch / wired to my skull cap. [haiku chain: repeat last line and continue]
little more / than a giant pin / the awl / is such a boring tool / until you realize / how literal / how profound / poised above / a skull
Yellow is brighter / in the writhing rot between / dead blackbird wings.
“reincarnetworked”: she retweets dead celebrities / each post a possibility / each repeat a resurrection / a refusal of / twitter mortis
he recalls it while / chewing her noggin nougat — / the way they once kissed #ZombieHaikuValentine
Before he disappeared he felt his shadow tug then tear away from his feet./ It’s in his room somewhere./ He crawls — searching, invisible.
cranial fluid / is for him a dipping sauce — / a cappetizer #zombiehaiku
remove the thermos / and you can squeeze a whole brain / inside the lunchbox #zombiehaiku
Left brain and right brain / go their separate ways, when sucked / through the eye sockets. #zombiehaiku Goodnight and Happy Halloween!
An undead gourmet / fashions the brains on their stems / into lollipops. #zombiehaiku
Bloated zombie ticks. / Their heads get under your skin. / Shoot them anyway! #zombiehaiku
No history here. / All the dead alive at once — / eating memories. #zombiehaiku
They do not like brains. / They just want to eat something. / That understands them. #zombiehaiku
How do they know that / comatose brains taste the best? / Something awakens. #zombiehaiku
Crazy cat lady / isn’t sure which of her hoard / is dead or alive.
Intestinal tract / knots around his mandible. / He tugs — both untie. #zombiehaiku
The very last brain / was swallowed without fanfare — / thus, terror ended. #zombiehaiku
The undead toddler / chews on a Kewpie doll’s head / like she’s still teething. #zombiehaiku
The crippled undead / are the saddest ones to shoot — / no misery left. #zombiehaiku
Camp near the vultures. / They cry and swoop at dead meat: / a zombie alarm. #zombiehaiku
It’s zombie mother / who attacks the nice lady / in the shower stall. #zombiehaiku
Wait by the gravestones — / easier to pick them off / when their heads surface. #zombiehaiku
Aim for the head, but / try not to look in their eyes — / might still be human. #zombiehaiku
Deep in the ocean / blue whales groan for brain tissue — / opera of the dead. #zombiehaiku
eyes transfixed on me / grim features so determined — / spiders in his beard #ZombieHaiku
In the library / even the Survival Guide / is blood-stained, unread. #zombiehaiku
it’s not ironic / when the undead bangs your head / against the headboard #zombiehaiku
head soft as grapefruit — / a tiny hand clutches out / between the crib rails #zombiehaiku
I deploy decoys / and take aim when they choke on / the taxidermy. #zombiehaiku
The stiffness of death / crackles worst in the jawline / — so close to deaf ears. #zombiehaiku
trashcans at the curb / the lids like dining tray domes — / mother’s in the bags #zombiehaiku
The Devil at Group Therapy: “Ola! I’m Satie / and I’m a mother of three / adorable little / whipper-snappers / aged six / six / and six.”
The scariest clown / is the one / draped dead over the steering wheel / still honking its horn / after everyone / has left the clown car.
He winced when yanking off the bandage./ Smiled, surprised that the bite wound had healed./ Screamed when the bandage quivered in his hand.
at the carnival / the man with the oxygen tank / sits on the bench / by the coaster / closing his eyes / smiling at the swelling of screams
From my bench I watched / a chub-cheeked squirrel / nuzzle inside the hole in his tree / and the leaves quivered / as if he’d just fed it.
“Wrap”: They found the tenth head / wrapped up tight / in rumply tin foil. / No clear clues / except for the man’s name. / Another Reynold.
Girl Names from the Demon Baby Dictionary: Oblivia. Grueliette. Clawra. Regretta. Scarla. Killda. Retchen. Lucivere. Peryl. Sinona. Flamey.
she was found dead in the sewer - / coffee spoon still in her bony hand - / just yards beyond / the tunnel she’d chiseled / from her kitchen
“Deady-O”: with black turtleneck / and beret askew / the zombie beatnik / snaps his fingers / quite literally #gogyohka
#worldbookday The books began/ their takeover/ in the children’s section:/ smiles of crinkling cardboard/ shelves of hardbound teeth.
Goth / she once said / was her lifestyle choice. / I remember this / at her viewing / but she just looks / like all the rest / of the dead.
zombie fist breaks earth / snow-covered boot slips his grasp — / ice fishing for brains #zombiehaiku
Assembly line / quality inspector / is run over / in the parking lot / of the car factory. / His last words: / fail.
“pirouette”: on the closet floor / her child’s / pink satin / ballet slippers / lie still — / toes caked / wet with grave / yard soil
Who knew the sun / was but a big / bowling ball / traveling / so slowly / we orbited it like pins / on its way / to the gutter.
i saw a child / building a snowman / only to start stabbing it / in the gut / so hard with his bare fist / it left blood for buttons
Weight Watcher: Woman at diner / taps keys to add up / the calories… / and sighs. / I see her fume / then smile / and eat the calculator.
“palms read”: the suicide marvels / at the way blood channels / off his palms / as if made to spill just so. / ironic, the name / life lines
“Weaponized Common Ailments”: Destroiter, Mortigo, Hauntis, Doomatism, Glandruff and H&R Pox.
“Snapped”: the branch broke/ but it still was sturdy enough/ to drag the horse thief’s noose/ between two ponies/ smiling in their bridle.
winter looms above / snow blankets the graveyard earth / it’s colder down here
#zombiehaiku : His gray hand / swiped my shoulder / and came right off / at the wrist. / I escaped / but that shade of gray / stays with me.
“Virgin Snow”: the executioner / admires the fresh powder: / a white sheet inviting / the bright red spread of stain. / no two alike.
“Doorbusters”: Desperate,/ the mortuary ran/ an amazing special/ at dawn on Black Friday./ They didn’t expect/ the coffin lids to bust open.
“Thanksgiving Ritual”: Mom loves to baste the human / in cardamom, cloves and cumin.
though long dead / departed firemen / still awaken to the air horns / and head to the House / spirits collecting downtown / aimless as smoke
“The Morbid Custodian”: cleaning the coffins / he contemplates how much dust / is really to dust #haiku
“In the Coffin”: near dusk he awakens / but his limbs throb / numb with sleep / and he wonders: / What have the worms done / this time?
a vortex of snow / spirals in dance / above a frozen body / happy to have escaped / the bitter chill — / happier still / to have become it
“winter morning at the crime scene”: hot iron fizzles / the radiator hisses / blood drops boil and spit
#zombiehaiku : We all still hunger — / even without tongues or throats — / we must feed the void
More #zombiehaiku: “Undead at the Desk”: dead man resurrects — / fingers twitch on his keyboard / retweeting this post
#zombiehaiku I load my pistol. / Dad tells me “Aim for the head!” / But his chin will do.
Halloween: he does not don his mask / but puts it over the face / of each victim / so he can butcher / the same person / again and again
“Behind the Ice Cream Shop”: fangs puncture / child’s throat / and he winces — / the esophagus / is still cold / from the sherbet.
Crack open the oyster: / a pearl gleams wet / on a human ear inside / and the sharp edge of the shell / curves smug like its smiling
In the Carpathian mountains / there is a blind vampire / tusked and feral / who snorts the rocks below the cliffs / seeking fallen men.
“gridlocked”: somewhere deep in the junkyard / a muffled horn honks / as if the other cars / could get out / of my captive’s way
the players need / extra tape for the wrists / after coach takes steps / to end the handling fouls / with his hacksaw #worldcup
he eats with closed eyes / each bite a surprise / every swallow sacred / carefree chewing / in quiet communion / with the god of worms
a manikin arm / is pinched by the packing blade / and jumbles in the rubbish / as the operator considers / the kids who tagged his truck
It is possible / to drown in a torrent / of your very own blood / by cutting an artery / behind your sinus / but you’ll sneeze trying.
“Carrie Aged, Returns”: she hit ENTER / recalling the tang of correction / the stain of ribbon / the crinkle of paper / the sticking of keys
The taxidermist / whispers an apology / into its hidden ear / before up-ending the peacock / and feather-dusting / his shopfront.
he remembered reading / somewhere once / that the brain lives on / a few seconds / after decapitation / and then / it all / went / black
“pruning”: a vine lashes the gardener’s wrist / and she drops her sheers / in fresh-turned soil / as roots finger and fumble / the handles
“deja food”: hot blood / goes unswallowed / as she frowns / down at his neck. / the flavor’s familiar. / she’s bit here before.
“goodbye trace”: the last thing she sees / is him cleaning / his knife of her / wiping away his sin / erasing her message / her mystery
The killer pauses while painting / the walls with her blood / struggling to stirstick / the congealing remainder / clotting in the can
The spitting black husk / quivers in the sauce / on the stove top. / It has too much hair / to be Eggplant Parmesan.
“Roadside Awakening”: halogen red / shatters an aura cast / through the stained glass twinkle / and rusty glaze / of my smeared blood
Shy-ku: I’m not a poet. / Please don’t count my syllables / Forget I wrote this.
Shower Scene: Mother Tugs the Curtain: ♫! ♫! ♫! ♫! / ♫! ♫! ♫! ♫! / ♫! ♫! ♫! ♫! /\~/\♦/~~\/\♦/\~♦/\/\♦/.…………<*>