Department of Apocalyptic Affairs

The meal reveals its identity The erotic turns erroneous Insomniahours fevered with springtime Magnetises even the bloodinshoe beauties An amusementbox invaccination The superb turns superflous And egoeccentric pencilcramps Tornadoeye of undeserved attention Department of apocalyptic affairs Furnished with electric chairs The faked generosity of one instant The phallic turns fallacious Blistered bindfoldeye curses The constant melvining of one's metabolism Obscene obsession correct relief The call-girl turns carnivorous Relentlessly spinning the litany We are born to be exterminators Department of apocalyptic affairs Furnished with electric chairs

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

Met up with my friend The sexist in exile On a tight leash He keeps the vermin That gave me the creeps Together 'till the end Us and whatever's addictive In a pair of tight jeans The gossamer latex that separated two bodies What we've got here Is a face in a fever From the mouth comes the virus Nothing's made cleaner I've seen the one-track mind However just in profile He keeps a shocking feast Leads his women to anxieties and sweets He is the iguana man Always this repulsive Always accompanied by screams He spits the virus at the one who sleeps What we've got here Is a face in a fever From the mouth comes the virus Nothing's made cleaner

Submitted by NecroLord — Apr 26, 2025

He's got a whip-scarred centerfold In the trunk of his car Pocket full of spices To go with the sore It's he who's got The crania and the remnants What would he have done If suffocation wasn't portable Pages of the memory Torn out disappeared As did the severed limbs Buckshots conflagrated the arteries In a 210 bpm cardiac march A carcass of alcohol enraptures In a 60/40 combustion/evaporation

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

Arrest me I talk in riddles I cause stress and muscular cramps Nervous exaggeration after the toxictonic Telepathically broadcasts an appearance of one's own One's been given a doppelganger Who unlike oneself doesn't fake enthusiasms The shallshock of one instant And the indiscretionnovice unzips his fly He'll never know what hit him I know the detectives found The fingerprint of the universe

Submitted by BloodShrine — Apr 26, 2025

Underneath the skin A glittering ocean The waves and the pulsating soil A spine bent into perverse angles Projected on a screen A charming grimace I shot my thoughts at you Dreading the recoil’s impact The unrest of one instant and the amphorae were pulverized Projected on a screen The imaginary silhouettes I plunged into the fountain’s crystalline waters Without dreading the clash with the surface You stole from me my riches and my tremors Projected on a screen An anaemic body I threw the explosive caresses Back at the smileress And they Bounced

Submitted by Sexy Gargoyle — Apr 26, 2025

Vexed with wires and curled up like snakes We all without aim stumbled and staggered Through the craters and pools That were oh so characteristic Of the landscape on which We to our surprise discovered facial features. Once i was given a bottle filled with sparkling anxiety. It did not quench my thirst. It became an unbecoming addiction. (and in an Abbreviated manner one could say that in Accordance to tradition we exhibit our Addictions in the display window to Affront possible bypassers and to arouse Aggression and inertia.) Someone cast himself into self-portrayal vainly hoping the result would accentuate the featurelessness of his face disappointed he swam in the low-budget luxuries that devour with omnivorous appetite would you lie for me i had a rusty nail hammered through my temple and I’m not sure if what i felt was pain let me introduce you to my friend the pain in-exile let me spray you with last-minute lies the screens oh so cleverly designed to banish boredom brought reports of an accident in the shooting gallery if i were a killer you would not have lived to know at the ends of one's arms there are instruments of destruction confusingly similar to hands the imperative of the evening is sever would you die for me would you spy for me thank you I’ve had enough now let me evaporate and join a less tedious cloud the delicacies that scorched the palate and made the tongue swell Fresh from the machinery of the filth-factory: A malfunctioning device: cogito. Upon seeing it one shrieks, With jealousy intoxicated And with the almost Theatrical obscenery appalled-angered. The crumbling the crumpling the collapsing Mild and sour and misplaced As were the cherub's smiles. Pornography has brought us Where technology couldn't.

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

As in the fairytales the eerietales the scarytales the oh so weary tales there is a place where the outdated sweethearts go as in becoming one with the vicious whirlwind as in couldn't have cared less as in courting the barbwire smile as in where will that grinnygrin be when you're waltzing about in stenchdrench as in how could you be so careless as in watching the spleenscreen the snowscreen there's snow on my screen and it's the story of a lifetime as in there is a carnage where the dead darlings go as in i wouldn't i don't wanna' as in I'm not there as in another sphere as in not being a victim not a superstar as in as if

Submitted by Pestilence — Apr 26, 2025

Met up with my friend The sexist in exile On a tight leash He keeps the vermin That gave me the creeps Together 'till the end Us and whatever's addictive In a pair of tight jeans The gossamer latex that separated two bodies What we've got here Is a face in a fever From the mouth comes the virus Nothing's made cleaner I've seen the one-track mind However just in profile He keeps a shocking feast Leads his women to anxieties and sweets He is the iguana man Always this repulsive Always accompanied by screams He spits the virus at the one who sleeps What we've got here Is a face in a fever From the mouth comes the virus Nothing's made cleaner

Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Apr 26, 2025