The Dungeon

Oddly out,
bringing forth
new life within.
Scared to show
myself to them
start to hold
onto my soul.
Crimping, slamming,
sticky and warm
hot pie off the griddle
in a time
with no arms.
Bulging veins
across the forehead
of time.
Re-arrange the
paperclips,
slick and silver
that write upon
the fake smell
of discernment.
Intense incense,
slimy and steamy
pouring out molten lava
bright fuchsia pink.
Just silence needs to be heard,
but what do I hear?
Lips licking,
breaths snorting,
heat wafting,
papers fluttering,
eyes blinking,
gum getting chewed.
Rap! Rap! Rap!
The shadow beneath
the pine tree
desert cactus, blue berry
bush.
Black shells stay still,
but then
move and scrape
across the brown, flat
table top.
Oh when will this all end?
Haunting music stealthily plays
as chubby
kids in wheelchairs
circle in a haze.
While bare-breasted birds
speak sweaty fire thoughts
and hush, hush, hush.
Please burn down
the building top,
seven stories high
am I
staring at the drop.
Should I...???
Nah, I'd rather not.