poetry

Atavistic violence.

dark dawn dusk evening

(Before it mattered-)

I was a midnight ghoul
casting prayers and hexes,
leaving stains where I knelt
before an empty bed—

(But now-)

I smear lipstick
to find something holy,
I bare atavistic teeth
and take a bite of God—

(However later-)

I scream out filthy curses,
I spit out belligerence,
I roar out the names
of every motherfucker
that ever laid a finger on me.

© Nancy Botta, 2018

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8 thoughts on “Atavistic violence.”

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