Agony grips each nerve ending
in tentacled, pulsating
entanglements; a sordid monster
rapped taffy pull of muscular
constriction and expansion.
The fetid uninhibited abscess
rapt in a “Devil’s Dance” of impish
delight serenaded by choiring
demons recitals of Voodoo
and repentance inherit the pink
immaculate seed of torment
forgiven through the blessed
holy conversion into a bountiful
harvest of peaceful incoherence.
The abscess lay hidden, dormant
behind a curtain of sinew and muscle
patiently awaiting the chosen
hour now come: rupturing, revealing
itself as a poisonous phantom,
teeth honed for the occasion.
A river of red and yellow awful
issues from the core of my being
cascading through bowels and down
both legs unchecked, turning ankles
and feet into purple deformities.
Soothing waves of Oxycontin hold
the ravenous monster at bay,
only to release him more cruel
and determined; my entire body gripped
by excruciating agony, the great
destroyer having his way, defiling
an unguarded temple. At last, urgent
angels of war answer desperate,
incoherent pleas. Ravaged and spent,
I lapse into merciful sleep.
Kevin Heaton currently lives in South Carolina, formerly from Oklahoma where he published Country Music. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in: Foliate Oak, Elimae, Grey Sparrow Journal, Little Balkans Review, Kansas Poems, Nerve Cowboy, Pembroke Magazine, and others. His interests are scuba, distance running, and being a grandfather.