come morning
he cleanses his hands
before praying
goat skull stringed to his forehead
hamsa amulet hanging down his chest
bronze bracelets fastened to his wrists
the river stream graces his feet
like the fur of a lion, he was
camouflaged in the desert sand
black lightning streams over a white sky
he cuts cactuses with gold daggers
sharpens his blades while sitting on sour apple trees
in solitude, the dew thickens over the lake
the sandstorms ripen their plague
he chants without end, nude and glistening
born inside of the deepest of caves
glowworms illuminating the limestone walls
vampire tarantulas burrowed
under his pillow as he half-rested
two eyes closed and his third eye open
slimy papaya melts between his fingertips
his sister nudges his shoulder with a stick
hungry and afraid of the ten-foot demons
he transforms into a spotted hyena
and eats them
regurgitating their corpses back to her
before he dives into the river
clouds of mist steaming over it
all a part of the eternal prayer
swimming back into the cave
to feed his sister with
the mammoth that he killed
from there to his settlement
a current in the desert stretches out
from one quasar to the other
sister has nightmares of killer whales
swimming over the dunes
where cemeteries glide like arcus clouds over her head
horns of the apocalypse blaring in anger
her right arm rattles against its will
swelling, turning purple, nerves at war with each other
and all he wants is for the medicine he made
to heal her, tying lemon balm to her wrists
he stitches lavender wands into her blankets
and fathers heart also weakens
singing out of rhythm
no medicine or blessing to mend him
who else can carry their truth
and meanwhile, he dreams of being trapped
naked as a younger boy inside of a viola case
the instrument playing one solitary note inside his chest
krrrrrrrnnnnnnnn, like a metal fist crushing his entire body
and all his hand-carved knives are plunged into his forehead
the torment of a monsoon broke out as the boy hyena
was out on his hunt, gathering his killings in a pile
stacks of chopped burning cedarwood near a waterfall
skeletons of elemental demi-gods scattered around him
remnants of their bone fluids glow and taste like honey
boy preying, festering, but pensive as he lingered in hunger
his thin and fragile chest on top of the highest limb of a pine tree
he sharpened the steel blade of his knife with his teeth
gazing down at his prey, the thousand-pound albino alligator
and as he came down to kill it, a lion-man scalped it with him
the beast lashed out its tail as its guts spilled into the black lake
and the two of them came to know each other through telepathy
smooth lightning splitting trees in half all over the forest
hymns of thunder give way to lull them through the night
the hyena-boy gifted him the severed alligators head
they tore apart a venomous seadragon and shared it between kisses
killing, cleaning, feasting, the ritual of festering in mounds of blazing gore
and then allowing the holy rain to rinse it all away
the lion ripped open the boys cotton waistcoat in a fevered temperament
its buttons breaking off and dropping onto the goldenrod mushroom fungus
and they rested among the sordid mud and guts, embraced in bedraggled fur
pit vipers attempting to coil around them as they become like crest and trough
the lion’s golden armor of glimmering stars shattered into glass into dianthus flowers
his heavyset body dragged down to lather the boys dick; three fingers thrusted into his ass
the heavier it rained the faster he thrusted into him, and when a calm breeze came by
he pulled out, letting his seed explode over the hyenaβs muzzle, some over his eyelids
prayer, marriage, today, now, this is forever, they say together
the next day, he brings forth all the kill with his husband back to his folks and ancestors
for his twentieth birthday,
his mother gave him new pants
stained with saffron and cardamom powder
and a silk shirt with a hundred gleaming beaded evil eyes sown to it
his lion-lover attached feathers to the curls in his brown hair
kneeling together beside a field of sleeping stegosauruses
each of their plates painted in different vibrant colors by his father
kabbalistic symbols etched into their ivory tails
couldnβt this be forever sister, mother, father, my lover
but it isnβt because the earth is churning to dust
not G-d but insects working together to crush an hourglass
as sacrifice, a brother, a son, a lover
lays his back over a jagged mossy boulder
the masked medicine ladies banged their drums
from each side of his bandaged ears
black smoke from bowls of clay drifted through
his nostrils as they cut apart his clothes
shaving off each hair particle, keeping them for later
jars with sweat, sperm, excrement, urine, tears
and a circle of vultures paraded around him
for his father, he peeled out his heart
for his sister, the veins in his wrists
the nerves that she needed in his spine
he plucked them all out like wisteria flowers
for his lover, his kidneys, his intestines
he scooped and dissected it all for them that he loves
devitalize his young and healthy body
carefully flay his smooth skin
dispense it to them
and the ladies remained until the vultures had cleaned the flesh
from his bones and then they molded his remains into powder and dust
to scatter from the peak over a fluttering halo hovering above the lake he was born into
three scarlet blood moons screamed his name into the gemini constellation
galaxies on life support wept out crushed planets
unhinged melting galaxies collapsed into supernovas
and his eternal soul of unsuppressed love
enduring
spread itself
from one quasar to another
ββββββββββββββββββ
Damien Ark is a self-taught outsider writer that specializes in transgressive LGBT+ work. He has no degrees in literature and has taken no workshops. His first novel, Fucked Up, will be out sometime in 2020.
*Image credit: Artwork by Damien Ark
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