New poems by Rob Plath

 

 

Blood & Song

 

my demons ambushed my angel

threw a blanket over it

& slashed it w/box cutters

 

the demons retreated

when my angel, deeply gashed,

began to sing

like a hemorrhaging violin

 

 

 

Be Careful What You Fuck Up

 

you can fuck up yr demons

you can crush the cherries of 1,000 cigarettes

out in their fucking eyes

you can pull on yr boots & kick their fangs out

you can throw a black sack over each & everyone of them

& lug them to yr trunk & dump them in the bay

but you'll be mutilating yrself

you'll be drowning yrself

 

yr demons are the skin of yr temples

 

 

 

Better Than Bone

 

rip yr spine out

twist yr skull off

 

fill yr head

w/a beautiful

weightlessness

 

let Nothingness

support you wherever

you walk

 

 

 

Black Dog

 

the raccoon

bargained for its life

w/terrible screams

 

but those jaws

remained callous

as the gods

 

 

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