The May Featured Poet is

Joe Meredith

Please feel free to email Joe at:

grimworm726@yahoo.com

DERELICT

Lying lazily in the Venus chamber, rose-tinted and Arabian damp,
the rifle rests nearby, and twilight the color of corpses glows in the blinds.

Beyond, chimeras velvet, mechanically gnaws and bud,
spilling out babes crazed and crucifixion stained.

And I know I was spilled with them,
with my back scarred with phantoms of missing wings.

But just like my seeds are boiling in her tattooed altar,
my plot is defining itself.

With my lungs rendered sore by the milky smoke exhaled
and lingering like ghosts of melancholy, the chamber fades to black.

Then my skull begins turning with the planet’s core,
and into the alien forest I go, hunting for another kiss.

AS WORMS WRITHE

we didn’t have a choice.
with a primal scream,
we entered this dimension,
this labyrinth.
with the sun,
our heads are aligned,
cadaver bright and loud.
on this earth,
our steps are callous
and meaningless.
in this calm chaos,
we wander,
we feel.
as worms writhe,
we devour,
we thrive.
we didn’t have a choice.

THE HOLLOWED REBEL

The lonely demon’s name is Source,
who grips behind my eyes and stops my search.

The lonely demon says,
“Watch them as they reenact the weddings of the dead,
and as they wonder if they’ve altered fate.”

The lowly spider’s name is Symbol,
and its creeping legs will suffer in the era when it crawls.

The lonely demon says,
“Night is delirium of the soul,
and morning’s the blooming of our limbs.”

The rebel is a hollow husk
dreaming in the spider's web, and no one knows his name.

The lonely demon says,
“Though forever he desires,
a hollowed rebel is never filled.”

Joe Meredith lives in Miflin, Alabama. He has a son named Elijah, but otherwise is a self-proclaimed recluse. Joe is fascinated by horror fiction, regardless of media or form. He also loves literature and its cerebral repercussions for a human being or beyond.