Heaven Leigh Art, Poem By ~ Jeremiah Walton

by Horror Sleaze Trash on January 29, 2014

 
Heaven Leigh art

 

I’m Bringing Heaven With Me On My Way To Hell.

Stay tuned for upcoming chap, Witch-hunting Gatsby’s Children.
 
Pornography
 
This room is an empty photograph
This room is vast
The chandeliers are stars
Supported by cigarette smoke and factory breath
Feet are supported by Mother Earth
Mother Earth supported by constant witch burnings,
abolition of attachment.


We surrendered our rights upon evolving to the point where magazine covers photoshop our bodies and bullets whisper “I love you”
Now we seek utopia like filth is problematic


I’m an anarchist that hates anarchy
I am a federal government that sells souls to broken bottles
I am a bottle opener and cheap adhesive
The application is of wet lips and gunpowder


The “ands” are getting to be dirty and old
The imagery has become stained


The nickels are hated
Quarters are most desirable
Dimes are easy to carry
Pennies are precise
But nickels,


those pesky
fucking
nickels.


This poem wreaks of marihuana smoke
but I swear its sober.


The knife laws protect it from protecting itself
The shanks are hidden in the metaphors
Don’t get stabbed reading too deeply.


The maidens of our Mother are mindless


We are cutting the umbilical chord connecting our belly buttons to the soil
handling our knives and dicks carelessly.


I keep finding saw dust in my poems
and saw blades behind All teeth.


There’s a little less in this one
but it’s because the cut was a little more shaped than usual.


I forgot to brush my teeth today
Tomorrow I’ll remember.


Fill me up with coke and I’ll plant conversations in trash cans
Fill me up with gasoline and I’ll chain smoke just for fun.


Does this make me stupid or adventurous?


The knife cut my thumb off
I’ll hitchhike with this stub
till my poem finds a meaning
strips


and masturbates like a rabid dog
let loose in a strip club
barking at the woman
and drinking all the wine.


Mother Nature, God, Allah, Zeus, and all personified nothing’s are having an orgy upstairs
and none of us are invited.


We’ll never get to heaven
unless we become angels
on a kite string,


but I’d rather fall to bed
and be beautiful broke free
than worrying about
the floors’ dust
and upholstery.


Drunk
and naked in public
I make porn with the world.


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