I Am a Cannibal

I listen to a song
as I wash roots,
then proceed
to the counter
where sits a knife
in apparent silence,
weighing its own razor edge
ruthless truth.

I listen to a song
as I heat the oil
while it mocks
the victim, freshly cut
wounded, but not dead.

I listen to a song
as the chilli mumbles
in derision
not knowing its end is so near.
It never knows, never realizes
pain doused in turmeric fire,
its remembrance, yellow,
like salt near a sea.

I listen to a song
as I mix a little red
to see the Sun.
Add little white crystals
and stir a dream.
Throw in the wounded,
for its time to eat.

We Are All Vampires

Moaning under the abyss
of breathlessness, this, my life
has no meaning, but to avenge
the hunger you gave,wrapped
as a gift on the day I died.
You played with your prey
as a dog frolics with a bone,
its voice stamped,
teeth sinking in
to suck the quiet remnants
of blood-red existence,
which when drained, dried away
the tears inscribed like finger-prints
on a nameless coffin out on the sea
swimming recklessly between this world,
and that. Merging with the moon,
hiding from the sun, taking with it
the charred remains of a burning skin.