Horse
       

The womb, a tick tock, a shrapnel-bearing croc.
Daylight scum rigging, turpentine swilling.
Next the cog, glutted on tubal despair,
freak-white on the far side
of her bone-bright cell.
Shorn as her familiar.

Lip, carnelian bitch-froth.
Airless hiss, worn in a scythe.
Skin glove laced tight, a wax doll
mildewed sinking limb.
Great hole full of mouth holes.
Eye holes, cavities and sugar cubes.

The hog box hums beneath fetid petticoat.
Cats have been among the beds.

Spoon up the fatty stars
from their reeking swarming broth.
Pin the siren through her thorny pap.
A figurehead for your toxic rick.
Claim her fussing milk stained brains,
little men precious in their dampened fleece.

A stainless gothic quill
stakes each retina in its rubber globe.

A Death's brow pearl
for every last admirer,
for every winsome brute.

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Copyright © 2014 Danielle Pafunda All rights reserved
from Natural History Rape Museum
Bloof Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission