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Strange tales
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Written by Francis Scudellari
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Friday, 06 February 2009 11:18 |
Raised. On a mirrored slab
inch by inch he glides, spins
up, pulling against straps,
un-willing what binds him,
slow propels him toward
thrice blinking, blurred halos,
the whir of saw-tooth gears,
uncanny steel fingers
bent posed, purposeful:
his many-armed surgeon...
Cuts. His half-conscious mind
knowing but not feeling
the sting of numbed pink flesh;
laser pin pricks tracing
patterns, deep-stenciled shapes
to draw from dead tissue
a thick-brow, brown golem.
Its emerged-eye stare fixed
on a teat screened mother
as she spills her static...
Milk. Grabby-claw hands, take
greedy-fang bites, feasting
on pulsed bits beamed across
an electric blue stream.
This raw, imagined food
real enough to entice
its once bone-gripped belly
to red-swell large, and fill
a machine carved gap, where
his trapped ghost is growing...
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Poetry 
