Blame the damp easing lost in and out of color.
Pledge it a danger to all and castrate the panting cure
that swells all out of gusto; dead waxen grit.
Taboo are the lianas molesting the edible and transfigured
binary pulpy necrophiliacs riling creed.
Their decay is that which we overdose on.
It is like clutching your breath in frigid water,
decades deep, pronouncing gestures in silent to the unheard.
It is the portrayal of humid southern color and the half
empty animals crossing soil and sun only to become living
landmarks in roadkill country.
The sweating thermostats hang on wooden triangles of glass
in a square foot isle of the shaved and shared.
These avenues of dirt road romance feigns
roving women; sanctuary of nil.
Lay undone, unwed and undressed on
stinging rocks to become prey.
A carnivorous obstruction to mollify.
This is the humid color of summer.
The fox red wife in obscurity chanting invisible.
Be nothing if not marble – quoting the diamonds
that distress the uncanny wire sneaking round her.
Once more this avenue squeals without a name.
Mitch Green founded Rad Press Publishing in September of 2016. He is an avid artist in visual design and literature. Published in various literary journals and magazines: The Literary Yard. The Penmen Review. Vimfire Magazine – Mitch aims to seize the narrow line between all artistic mediums.
A few of his known poetic titles are: “Flesh Phoenix” “Monsters” “The Wolves Howled”.