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I Settle for Graveyard Orbit

Season after season I live
until oxygen
decay my weary skull and
fimbulvinter makes men uneasy.

Finally the coronial
line breaks.
Magneto sheaths
implode on flesh of
men and gods alike.

What caused this fate?
A fatal break of honor.
I suffer under alligator blows while
avenging death with death and
emptying my cup.

Geomagnetic storms blow
the feedhorn,
deities rule the
snowy darkness.
No more stars while
naked skin goes at
highest bidding.

Dead men riding,
she jokes
at the half empty hangar.
A blue carcass inside a red body;
I eat you while time exist.

Delay.
Solar winds pass between
long lines of men before
the bow shock.
I feel no reconnection as my limbs bend and
Mjolnir forms intoxicated vectors in the night air.

 


PO Johnson is currently dividing his time between Norway and Sweden. He loves space mechanics, industrial rock and baroque. He is also a dedicated husband and a salsa dancer. https://pojohnson.blogspot.com/

laughter

black streams pouring from his shoes
a nesting lamppost lingers over the empty street
he stops at the fresco building by the blind alley

irritated streams between his lungs and abdomen
curls on the spindly sofa inside
among the corroded legs of the couches
a swarm
of lingering smoke and laughter
“…sperm is the only thing which can take you over the grave, you know”
he stops

frost descending on tar rooftops
at lung black streets
a lighthouse flutters oxygen over yonder

©  2012

Ande Enochsson lives in Sweden and has been published in several magazines.