X-Mas Party Favour

it hasn't been so very long
since the times & days
when we threw our sex at each other
both without aim or accuracy –

       fumbling in the dark,
       with my head blown apart
       and my kiss on your gun
       like a holiday tart,

excruciatingly saccharine

Urban Lunacy

I think this must be it…
as far as we can travel
the nights are cold
but not as bold
as they used to be

(it’s almost a full moon almost a full moon almost a full moon almost)

the pavements are slick with scales and skin
they are engorged
fed with the flesh and bones
of our sanity, our humanity

the city’s epicenter
a Gorgon head
of venomous mouths
that feed and bleed each other

(it’s almost a full moon almost a full moon almost a full moon almost)

at night sometimes tongues forget their violent purpose
and lie softly in their enamel cages
this is how the streets lie
like amnesiac demons
who may or may not find their way back to Hell

(it’s almost a full moon almost a full moon almost a full moon almost)

when there is no one left to lie to
you can lie to yourself
lie softly to yourself
in the night
in the dark
lie

Alex Maeve Campbell lives in Toronto, ON, Canada. She is a Co-Editor of Descant Magazine, and is sometimes also considered a poet, a musician, or an ex-highland dancer.

Email: Alex Maeve Campbell

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