I lay at night

the disjointed harmony
of a symphony of imps
clamor with instruments
crafted from the ore
of subjugated satiation

those metals are mined
from and for
a mitigated mind,
shaped from invitation for invitation,
fed by a beetle's prattle
to a kangaroo's pram

systemic or inherent,
appetites are gorged:

a seedless chase of the pursuit to feel alive
whatever that life is, if a life at all

I struggle in this consumption of the dead.

—it is not the repulsion that repulses;
the dead is engineered
with an otherworldly, witches' brew
to entice and satiate
the mitigated mind

on the left
and on the right,
there I watch the dead...

chortle
and
gurgle
and
guttural chomp

...through the trough of selected tendons and nerves

familiar writs and wrists turn upward
as I see the hands of a corpse
grasping the sinews of subjugated satiation