Michael Mc Aloran-

Sketch #2-

…dead stop I, or I or not of, anchoring, the final blood’s vein unmasked in the breath of the flesh redeemed, sunk to nothing
…asked of, as if it were, deaf to blind to naught and then of else, rancour, not I, blood to let from broken glass, dusted with the char of ashen pulse, emptily, fragrant as a carcass…
…no hand to offer, blind of eye and gouge of mouth, building from spinal lights, in spit of desolate, adrift of no wind, sea scar and apathy of the castrated tongue…nothing, nothing…bleeding
                                                   out…sea swell of oscillation, a-grip, of ennui, sudden as if to freeze, echoing out of purpose, bind…
(…said without…)
…nothing’s blood upon stripped cadaver shores, headless all, burn aloud burn no nothing of it, stagnant…recede, step, no, non-step, back again, follow onward from out of the pale dark, lights in the throat of it…no no heart, breath escaping from a room of waste, dead alone, jolt, spasm, shot/ shot again, absent again…
…reconciled, phlegm, shit, pissing on the face of it, and drag, the drag of absentee breathing once again…absence of laughter, absence, trace of cold memory, jolt, spasm, skinning pit of the heart’s divulge…leaving the sun behind from which you were born…
(…traces,
                  the fucking avarice of teeth…)
…wrestling yet dead, stone, casket of rat’s skulls, and the pelt of, nectar of drenched, spliced through, given…vast, infinite loss of eye, dark all but for the echoes, from where, nothing no tracing one’s footsteps through…
(…I’ll go…)
…dead none, elixir of dread, and the quickened speech, the fragments scattered from the mind’s tract, flame or none of I, I none of nothing’s claim, as if it never had been before -lying through the teeth of it…
…false abandon…a…
…dead, stop, or I, no not turning aside, not ever of the once, so I believe, never, not a tooth of nail or grip of lax beheadedness…in a rip of eye, in a razor sadness, what else?…(I lie…)
…nothing claimed…

…nothing claimed…

…nothing claimed…

…nothing…

Michael Mc Aloran's blog, where you can links to books, published poetry and reviews: Abattoir Whispers