Gorelets: Unpleasant Poems

all chocolate is Chocula -- it seduces with its riches, wraps your desire in the cape of your mouth, and invites the sink of teeth. we never bite gently; we always suck it to vapor, feeding on its potency until we are left only with the empty pang for more and more and more. we are undead with diabetes, obese with our obsession, unquietly unquenched while we dwell upon the mortality of the melt.

she caressed my arm but paid no heed to the recoiling dance of my terminal hair -- my infestation my need my friends, twittering aimless in the air from wrist to sleeve -- a thousand daddy longlegs, a thousand disturbed grasping ends

The mounted head begins to speak: you know, I like it better this way, I feel more like myself, no body to worry about anymore, just me alone with my thoughts, and there's time to talk to you without the distractions of yada yada yada I know dear and I prefer it, too, I say, putting on my boxing gloves. Now remind me, where did you store the tongs?