sixty mutant teeth sunk into the flesh
of the feet of the pounding beast
red its tail shifted in the spectrum
the air was shaking in delight
thrills spill into the deal
the lighting rods attract smirks
and the tears roll off the face of a stone angel
alone in the night
the only one inhabited in the private graveyard
anyone who could afford to visit was already there
the blind man pokes his stick at the letters inscribed
no, that was not his father’s grave, it was the next one
it has been several months and he had forgotten to count
he felt it was urgent his father had something to tell him
and when he got there and listened he was told what to do next

the red tail swipes at the air
the thin pain runs along his spine
his legs dangling there all hairy
and up to no good
his arms akimbo relaxed
and ready to kill
to slice you up
and let your blood spill

this is what you thought when you walked into the room