Skin, pale,

throat churning deer blood

Petrified fur, demeanor of a white wolf

slowly transfigures into Unspeakable Thing

What were once storybook nothings

settle into piles of innocent wool

snow-pressed rows of skulls play chess

watch caps still on their heads

red riding frozen fleece

through tyrannical passages

the tails of their newly anointed ‘souls’

flailing like three little piglets

on a cannibal farm

wearing schoolgirl outfits

while Betelgeuse watches

What if your precious policemen faded

would it be called anarchy

when men refused their posts

at grocery stores and town halls,

post offices,

or patrolling at children's parks

Kreuger-lites, Canaanites, no flashlights

pitchers of toxic water - not pitchforks

faces like flame

glaring oppressive

the rearing eyes of society’s death wish

What if the order of chaos

brought us back to prehistory?

Caravan tribes

matchsticks, farmland, barbarisms

Carnal wisdom

would you hug your luxury coat closely

for warmth, for security

For fear of the black wraith known as

Duality

count your coffee mugs full of blood, dirt

fatigue - the innumerable dose

of spirit caffeine

When you feel

Both sleepy, and hollow

when you wake up to hordes of thousands

carrying torches and burnt birth certificates

a lake of nightmare fluids

Will you choose to keep sleeping?

Or will you brave the cold tiles of the kitchen pantry

chin down,

walking straight toward an undead Jabberwocky

with a Corinthian flagpole & a hot temper