a chalk barrier in the shade of morning-Samantha Lucero & N. Ian McCarthy

Morbid Corvid

He forgot to carve his name onto it—my slow-dead
womb builder. So he thatched this house with reeds
as presences and struck cymbals.

I gave its shambles to the fire, heaped its mar and its
lime, and the skeletal birdcage of it into the memory
of a tongueless August mouth.

Its chasm, a door—its screen porch, a belching Madonna.
Thin-torn frankincense fumes like god-blood from the split
of its rarefying wound, where the

whole of purgatory is a scent of goulash and of low mur-
murs; the sin of knowing, a Clorox-tinged swimming pool
rash and the sponge of wood rot.

the rattletrap where i watch
in flesh-colors quiet as the static
on play-slides gallop to a cutlass.

and decrepit with me in a malibu
it rusts in happy meals. bloats on
a warm backseat corpse savoring
in fragmented leather castled by
dehydrated fries like blades.

a baby tooth
unfastened…

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the perfect marriage

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i’ve evolved from spitfoam into hearth-iron ribs
trapped between septic fingers and lost doors.

one gummy eye used to be the rasp moon,
the other a varnished cloud.

i’ve created ants and snow in a womb
for licking, cloying death.

for freezing, for festering age,
years. rafts of web on web.

i scream in a locked room.
where only i am dreaming of being me.

to accumulate in wrinkles that are parenthesis
around your matchwood mouth or baby horns between
the swale of brow-felt.

the hole that gullets its teeth.


 

samantha lucero 2017 ©

time who kills – samantha lucero

SD work.

Sudden Denouement Collective

who kills, father time?

time who kills:
all things.
startling with the drip of a chrysalis stuck threading in a tapered night that once slurped on breast milk and sour bread. a man where clearwing moths have suckled in.
though he peals in fishnets, loud in a mouthy reservoir of silk,
cum is mud, and mud-worms next to a flaring wing, flowering on a spectral chin, making a seedling.
he’s supine underneath the antlers of his boney hands, he’s castrated
or perhaps submerged in the deepest pore of hell. his sons are the immaterial sky, the apathetic sea, the under-dark.
parents, handfuls of dirt, the bleeding ulcers inside the intestines of earth.

time who kills
father time, luxuriating in an oblong sludge, in chianti bottles marked vintage,
“vintage has to be over twenty-five years,” that cunt would squawk, “antique has to be over 100.”
where are the unwashed…

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hours 

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I see those mottled photos, ornate albums

of yesterdays yellow sun

Of swollen women, dream-like, in a lavender field.

They leash their arms around an oval-shape

becoming empty; the shape deflates, the air comes out like water.

It starts to breathe it’s own small breath in the shape of a person,

someday a man, a woman, sometimes swollen, sometimes

stiff, stark, or bleeding.

Seeing those photos one day,

your nose has memorized leather and tobacco flower.

for her, it’s dr.pepper, Disney on ice

the coty musk she never knew she had just inside the pi of bone.

 

samantha lucero 2017 ©

‘Far From Any Road’ – Collaboration II – S.K. Nicholas & Samantha Lucero

Sudden Denouement Collective

When I looked into your eyes that time not long after we first met, I told myself that if I was given the chance, I would go ahead and do it. And such a thing would really impress you and make you want me even though I was just a zero.

Because the black light has been here since the beginning.

When I first discovered what you were in the early hours of the morning while drunk and on the brink, you reached inside of me and brought me back. Sounds melodramatic, I know, but before I found you it was as if I were the only one and that being a zero was all I was good for.

And it’s been burning a hole for so long.

When I swallowed what you had to say, I found a truth that had been denied me my entire life by those…

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It’s no comfort – Samantha Lucero

© Samantha Lucero 2017

Sudden Denouement Collective

It’s no comfort knowing that you’re buried,
deep down, taking earth around you
like blankets that fall apart and crawl.

But seasons still disrobed like actors
backstage in a play, in front of
everyone. Even with you
gone, the world moved on.
And I watched. We all did.
Forced to watch, without you,
with seasons pouring the years
between us in vanishing old flannel,
smelling like Salem filter kings,
soft.

Spring grew through us both
like a blade.
And you died in the summer.

A diamond in that box
they buried you in, deep down,
where you fall apart and crawl, too,
by now. Still waiting to be proposed,
like the plan to go back to Santa Fe.

Sometimes I wait for you to show,
maybe at the movie I go to alone,
sitting next to me when I peek over
in the flickering dark.
You could come around a…

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FLORIDA – Samantha Lucero

© Samantha Lucero

Sudden Denouement Collective

let sleeping dogs lie
or if they’re in florida
set them on fire;
let them die.
speaking of the plentiful
imagery of the world
i am the melting ice. i am the gun
on the dashboard to Savannah
for the 4th of July.
i am the word speak
now, or forever hold
your pieces.

for rent: a popular swamp,
far away from the highway.
a tongue left behind with a
womb-scent, a piece of me
in the toilet.
and the dog,
always barking up
the wrong tree.

like mottoes, mildew
crawling up the walls like arrows,
climbing down.
point me away from
the fingers they lick
in prison for nicotine.

they live in a dishwasher so they can
put roaches on my eyes instead
of coins when i die;
this is where he laughed,
where he made me into wax.
they check in, but
they…

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the heart asks pleasure – samantha lucero

more of my SD work.

Sudden Denouement Collective

when you become a parent,
you become less

a p p a r e n t.

until i disappear completely,
i can weep into the liquid face of a mirror
and speculate about who used to dwell in
my iron & carbon skull, before i was
the me that faded.

i held onto me like a movie ticket
in the back of my wallet
the one we all keep
that justbecomes a tomb
like a placeholder in our hearts
for a special day we end up
forgetting.

i’m perfunctory now, roiling,
knocked up byrainstorms
and lightning writhing down like a noose
on his red beard, drinking snake oil

maybe theworld’s a cat’s eye and i am shattered faith
my shoulders a hewn epitaph of hopes
am i lucid dreaming, i never fell asleep.
these days, i lie down in a trance
and never wake up.


[ Samantha Lucero is the…

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