Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Jotted on a wet napkin


I had a lotta skin in the game of skin.
Being all bone I sat alone.
The night wanted to wrap itself around me tight

maybe choke me like an illmet date, late.
I drew the skin of my teeth too 
From the deck full of Ensor grins.

What are we playing for I asked skin at the door.
Cruelty, adultery, usual stakes
Sez Skin, hurry and draw it will soon be dawn.

- Karen Chamisso

No comments:

Lovecraft

“If Lovecraft was an odd child,” his biographer L. Sprague de Camp writes, “his mother showed signs of becoming even odder. In fact, she gav...