Which cell first rebelled,
fueled the insurrection
taking over the town?
Bosch-born monsters breed,
ruttish rumpfed bladders on legs
scurrying across the canvas,
an obscene carnival, clots of chaos everywhere.
Dey run amok fuck-up go cruzy clump
disrupt – sisrupt – pile-up
piles of corpses
mangled tangled
elbows, torsos,
heads, mouths
frozen open, rictus,
Dachau, Austerlitz
anus world, a world of shit.
* * *
But here comes the chemo,
scouring, healing poison –
not no cavalry, not no Marines,
but bleach, lye,
molten lava pumping,
spreading o’er the obscene canvas
obliterating blight,
like hell fire, consuming those
misbegotten cankered creatures,
restoring order, an earlier order,
purging, drowning,
cooling,
covering,
creating rich soil
for fresh garden growth
a world of . . .
very intense. great poem.
Thanks, humphreyking. Unfortunately, my wife has t-cell lymphoma and is undergoing chemo, so I’ve been thinking a lot about cancer’s weird rebellion with the status quo. Thanks for reading and responding.