Inslumnational Underground

I fired a gun, full force, and flayed
The flesh from bone. I further fired
The bone until it turned pellets
And used them further for bullets.
The gun became a part of me.
My right limb transformed completely:
My index and middle finger
Became nozzle. The rest? Trigger.

Don't pull the thang out,
Unless you plan to bang

I crossed the land searching for bone
And meat to eat, but mostly bone.
And all who came before my sight
Looked at my limb and kissed goodnight
Looked at the nozzle and forgot
Their God as triggers pushed brought forth
A medley of warm blood on sand
The vultures licked in sarabande.

Don't even bang unless
You plan to hit something

Some chased. Most fled. All died. My flesh.
Mostly metal. This point. My self.
Mostly a gun. My eyes = Nozzle.
My mouth = Trigger. Blood I guzzled.
Bone I chomped on then pointed limbs
At sky. Blood red. I saw no glimpse.
I saw nothing at all. Just sound.
When bullets pushed bodies to ground.

Power music electric revival
Power music
electric revival
Power
music
electric
revival




Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 6 times
Written on 2026-06-23 at 03:42

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Albert Vynckier The PoetBay support member heart!
inslumbering: insurrection by dreaming that's what your title made me think of

inslumbering insurrection

now after reading the title, I read the text

i love the mix of steel and flesh and the metaphorical you gave to the rest: the trigger, that could find its way to psychoanalysis

I found it dement but so real, attack on mind !
definitely booked !
2026-06-23