I lift my face
ever so slightly as to catch
a glimpse of the man who just stepped
on it.


The dirt of his black boots rests uneasy in my teeth.
Puzzled I lay on the saloon floor
poker cards all around me.

the barkeep had hopped the counter and
rasseled the fella to the deck and I began to rise.

Slowly (not by choice) I crept upon him,
only to realize that this was no man at all.

It's twisty black tentacles danced from it's putrid face.

" I believe I've had enough to drink Mr. K. bes' be off
to the fuckin' Mrs."

10/17/2009

Posted on 10/17/2009
Copyright © 2025 Johnny Crimson