Wolf

I’m going to try daily to write something for Morktober. Often these will probably be poems, so come stop by daily to see what I’m up to. All prompts are based off Exeunt Press.

All art by Tony Tran, who also illustrated Horus & Motherfucker! Check out his patreon for more artwork.

Well, we come to a close! The month is over, Halloween is upon us, and this little poetic exercise is all wrapped up with the final poem below.

I’ve had fun, though there were several days where I certainly didn’t feel inspired, where I really didn’t want to write another poem, and probably would have just skipped the day had I not had a collaborator making me such wondrous images to work with.

I tried throughout the month to approach from several different styles and structures, but I wanted to stick, generally, to meter and rhyme. I suppose that’s all quite old fashioned of me, but I think there’s something interesting that happens when you force yourself to stick to this sort of structure, this constraint. Because I could have leaned down into prose or blank verse or no verse.

But I stuck to what felt like it made sense for Mork Borg, which meant something for a non-industrial society. And maybe that’s a silly projection upon a world that never was, that never could be, but it’s the direction I chose and so I stuck with it.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this little bit of fun as well.

Pumpkins

What grows within the orange shell?
What abomination escapes?
I smell its brimstone stark from hell
It haunts my every dreamscape

I lie awake my mouth agape
Nightmares of demonic shape

Throw it away, she says to me
Throw the pumpkins in the trash
Raise your boot and unleash a smash
Haunted, I cannot disagree

But when I raise my foot to kill
Its trilling voice gives me a chill

“When the moon shines hunter night
Lay me out in view of the bright
And I will trouble you no more
Give me life, all I ask for.”

Through grass and hills I find the spot
I wait to see what I have wrought