Curse of the Mad Hag (2007)

let me cackle like
a howling mad hag
in a room with thorny walls
and muddy floor
and pristine rose-colored ceiling
that can never be reached
only prayed to

deafening clangs
of the stones being laid
round my fortress
clangs like angry church carillons
bursting eardrums
shaking souls and
defiantly professing abstinence
from all things precious and pleasurable

who will come visit me
in my well-guarded cell
my dungeon of intrigue
built so fastidiously
round a sappy soft center
that would melt
on your tongue
if you'd let it

hungry rats' and spiders' eyes
peer greedily from
the cracks and crevices in the corners
praying for death and decay
as i huddle, mad hag,
in this threadbare blanket of trust
that no longer warms
old bones and dried flesh

curse those foul vermin
and curse the fair sky
that riddles prettily
with sugar-coated lies and false promises
curse the ripe moon
and this womb
and the empty dead hole
beneath these breasts

and curse you
who never comes to claim me