I Am Deadly
embodiments of evil.
Divided into equal parts, I cycle
through the circle of their calling.
I am daughter of the devil, earthly
heiress to throne
Boiling cesspool of emotion, I spew
volcanic spite into the wind. I am monster
of mayhem, mounting miniature wars
against every mouth moving in my direction.
I am visceral. Planetary vengeance
permeates my fingers, imprinting everything
I touch. Do not look my way, I am all
eager eyes, searching for something beautiful
Social climber, exponentially ambitious,
I desire to consume all tangible symbols
of power. I am reflective, a shining mirror
of tyranny. I am golden
noose, dangling over the abyss of self-
destruction. Still I claw for the next
level. I am malicious discontent. I want
what I have, multiplied by what I can take.
Procrastination personified, I am apathetic,
emotionally void. Motivational chasm, I am
activity’s grave. I believe I am entitled
to a life of leisure. Do not engage me,
my thoughts do not register, your words
do not exist.
Earthly embodiment of God, I am gift
to peasants and plebeians. Temples should honor
my existence. I am pillar of prosperity,
intellect unmatched. I command silence
and servitude. Chisel my thoughts into wall,
my words deserve to become governing law.
Intensely motivating, I am desire. I burn
without restriction, raging, consuming
every waking thought. I am arousal,
the force behind the movement. Longing,
yearning, craving, I am rawest need.
I am haunting
hunger, the distracting drive to possess.
Green witch of resentment, I am bitter. Coveting
everything around me, I am hatred, human
bile bubbling. I am cauldron of misery.
Everything stirs me. I am stick, retracted,
poised for retribution. I need to feed my enemies
malicious doses of my own misfortune.
Omnivorous, I believe my mouth is the gateway
to heaven. I consume everything
I need, and everything I do not. I am excessive.
My mind does not comprehend the term
enough. Fingers dripping with waste, I am burgeoning
extravagance. Keep your distance, I will not stop
until I explode.
A.J. Huffman has published eleven solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. Her new poetry collection, Another Blood Jet, is now available from Eldritch Press. She has three more poetry collections forthcoming: A Few Bullets Short of Home from mgv2>publishing, Degeneration from Pink Girl Ink, and A Bizarre Burning of Bees from Transcendent Zero Press. She is a Multiple Pushcart Prize nominee, and has published over 2200 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com