A night-cap poem which contains adult themes. Consume at your own risk.
Autumnal Cannibalism Salvador Dalí
Nights in the city,
three-course debauchery,
partake of polished flesh
with Dahmer-like dignity.
Sunset fizzles, an iced aperitif,
sneak a supple slice
dipped in flesh-colored cheese.
Below scanty string thongs,
the skyscrapers are nude;
ebony phalluses
to be consumed.
Ripped stocking street lights
draped over back doors
shout, “Squeeze and stab
until she’s sore.”
Nights in the city,
compact lake reflections,
hairspray halogens,
Botox injections, and
propped up flesh.
Plunge into a main course,
steam and stroke
her doughy chest.
A forkful of face,
tug of braided hair,
a pinch of guilt,
covered up with despair.
Nights in the city–
the guts, the glimmer,
the moist nitty-gritty;
indulgent end to a
barbarous dinner.
© 2023 | K.Hartless
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
a tour de force of a poem; delightfully gruesome; a culinary chamber of horrors —
LikeLiked by 1 person
This comment has me glowing, John. Thank you. 😊 Nights in the city have their own pulse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Have you seen the new film “Babylon?” Your poem evokes some of the same imagery and feeling-only a bit more gruesome. There’s a lot of clever phrasing here. Nice!
LikeLiked by 3 people
I haven’t seen that one, but I’m adding it to my list. Thank you, Bridgette. I enjoyed my night in the city and taking it all in.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dahmer – wow. So long ago.
LikeLiked by 1 person
True. They just recently made a series about him, and I think that’s why it was fresh I. My mind. This twisted seduction.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The guy was insane.
LikeLike
You’ve written this poem is such a unique style. I’m not sure but it sounds like the darker side of urban life and the excesses of the city’s nightlife. A sense guilt and despair, which is intertwined with the indulgence and consumption of the city.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nailed it. I had once such night recently. Pleasure, guilt, transformation.
The city seems to pulse differently at night. There is a feast of something that may not be good for us, and het such an urge to indulge. I appreciate your thoughtful insights. Thank you.
LikeLike
A very haunting poem of the dark underbelly of nightlife hedonism – powerful imagery you’ve sprinkled throughout!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Tom. You can’t look away it all. The sweaty, seething night in the city. It was great fun to live it and then shower it all away with words. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
sexurbanistically perfecto!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Ron. I love this description. A new genre brewing. 💜
LikeLike
nicely done K.. love the lines!
💞
“A forkful of face,
tug of braided hair,
a pinch of guilt,
covered up with despair.”
LikeLike