The Emerald Cat

07 May
the emerald cat shudders by the door
a saffron moon stares down

but the butties argue and take a plash in blood
not mending the ragged cuts of self-fish bludgeons

playing the casuist echo
o dobbin world, have you kicked me again?
as the sow wallows in piggy excrement.

from them, the enemy finds a horn-head sacrifice
the fell teraphim chanting up to the sanctuary

the circular pain is even sought for
cracked bones tell of the twisted facts

how the lies cutting off
like the imp in the ear troublous

"i do this for you, only
for you, for you my only"

tie the carnage to the horns
gut the id from the reptiles
as skittering from oaxaca

but like the bulldog, antler
clamped in lipped teeth

by the altar, "not me" is told avowedly
the recusal more solert

cast from valhalla by the loquacity of war
the reddened chains argue loud, but few ever hear

the endgame
of the calenture day

3.8 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson 
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Posted by on May 7, 2022 in Poetry


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