Thursday, September 29, 2011

Incubus II



Incubus II


Tonight the incubus is in
a vile mood.
His pouts are puffs of sulphur
huffed on my walls,
leaving a yellow palled
skin of ill will;
his tail jerks and lashes.
He’ll do none of his tricks
with it, not even the one
with my feet.
He only wants to glare at me
until my eyes melt into runny gold
eggyolks, and carve his
black tattoo again 
upon my back
before he leaves me
to bring a sweeter torment
to another and teach her
one more word than I
in the 
vocabulary of ecstasy.




September 2011





Companion piece to Incubus



12 comments:

  1. Well that's not very satisfying is it?

    Both incubus poems are graphic delight, while sort of ticking me off. How dare he!

    ReplyDelete
  2. They just refuse to co-operate, Ruth. Demons! I tell ya. I'm thinking of just hiring illegal aliens instead.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Such is the way with those horny little devils. Tease and leave for another where the night may be just a shade of another color.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Joy,
    It would be terrifying to be in a situation where it overwhelms and the being in a stupor, asleep, not fighting back or not able to. Is it the same in a succubus situation, I wonder?.

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  5. I swear that fella was staring at me over the box of a dream I woke up with, the thought behind the thought (really) ... You make me wonder what difference between demons and white-noise-addicted children and internet sex addicts and brooding Mrs. Wrongs and demented fathers. Black gold here in this predator's assault who rules the speaker's bad history, slaking til he's done (like the say, you stop having sex with a 600-lb gorilla when the gorilla decides he's finished and winging off to cup and copulate another bad end in the heart's cul-de-sac. Those last lines are killer, dear: As if we are simply used as ornaments and metaphors in the poetic glossalalia of bum angels. - Brendan

    ReplyDelete
  6. @B; Yeah, I knew you'd get it.And thanks for the gorilla humor. The old jokes are the best jokes--or in this poem's case, except when they're not. ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  7. woot...figured it out...ok if you are having trouble commenting on embedded blogs...such as lovely joy's....

    1. sign out of blogger
    2. go into your internet options and dump your cookies and history
    3. sign back in

    it now works...wa-la....

    i really like your phrasing joy...the tattoo on the back....the teaching of another onemore word than you...demons in general show up when we least expect it or desire it...

    ReplyDelete
  8. Very cool that you figured it out bri. I bet it's some crazy hangover from this interface update they're doing. I could change it to the other format--commenting on a separate page, but I think it takes people just that much further away from the poem and the conversation. (Yeah, I'm weird.) I will though on Open Link Nights for everyone who doesn't want to mess with their cookies...and I don't want anyone messing with *my* cookies...

    Thanks for persevering, and for reading. Glad you enjoy my demon obsession, too.

    ReplyDelete
  9. This is excellent. I'm liking the runny egg yolk eyes, but the lines from there to the end is what makes this poem as remarkable as it is. You've really conjured this demon and he's nothin but nassy. But, sometimes, a girl wants all the nassy for herself and that's when the diabolical torments come in. It's cruel genius.

    ReplyDelete
  10. This one's my favorite.
    "to bring a sweeter torment
    to another and teach her
    one more word than I
    in the
    vocabulary of ecstasy."
    Damn him all to hell. But that's probably his summer home anyway, huh?

    ReplyDelete
  11. This is terrific. I was returning comment of Dani, who is featuring you. I love the trick with the feet. Bringing a smile this evening (from someone with sore feet.) k.

    ReplyDelete

'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg