Saturday, January 12, 2013

Juliet Cook

Red Moon Ashes

Red moon tonight; red rag
doll eyes. As soon as she rises up
into brightness again, she soon turns
dark again. Ashes, ashes, she hideously
writhes and grotesquely whirrs; another
misshapen blood drenched fairy
disaster of ash writhing from her
legs until she has no real footing left.
Red toenails like sharp stars fall down fast
and who could possibly catch & hold
all this mess? Who would want to
bite into a bloody broken bird egg?

Moondangled Bites

I thought I couldn’t help a small spider
crawl out of my bathtub, but I finally did.
Now it’s alive and writhing all over the floor.
A part of my heart pumped out/crawled around.
My racy leg valves got replaced with
burning locomotion of pseudopod cake.
Can sweet honey grow inside dark spider
egg like a new spangled heart string pupa;
make me stop breaking and dripping down?

Drain Potion

If you try to turn me into a mangled, hairless manikin head, I will know
you’re unaware of the spangled shape shifting maneuvers I can throw.
It might not happen fast, but I can grow…
my own drowned hair into spiral shapes; into semi-circle poison
beautyskull lollipops. Then one day when you stick your fingers
down the drain, oh beware of my new spectral writhings
which will suddenly shimmy and plunge themselves deep inside
your neckline, your mouth, your eyes – hack one of those babies out
and replace it with my haunted drain head art.


My moon is a poisonous zoo garden brimming with bizarre erotica. Like vile flasks, these coagulating feet clip off dark red cloud bursts between the knees; split blood drenched toenails like parasitic parasails.
Watch this sloe gin sideswipe seep into you like a storm surge. Feel night vision sparklers drip black raspberry out my borderline holes. Rip out another love song drenched with doppelganging bad lands.
My squirmy heart star-lets are about to explode from outer space like a strange photo booth tainted with biohazards. Shove another lethal dose down this throbbing throat until my cracked pinholes undulate and mutate into slithering tentacles. Nothing can contain this hissing monsoon.
Butterfly valves plunged between my bio-luminescent thighs; throttled them into blue lipped sea kraits.

Juliet Cook’s poetry has appeared within Arsenic Lobster, Barn Owl Review, Menacing Hedge, PEEP/SHOW, Ping Pong and many more print and online sources. She is the editor/publisher of Blood Pudding Press (print) and Thirteen Myna Birds (online). Juliet’s first full-length poetry book, ‘Horrific Confection’ was published by BlazeVOX. She also has oodles of published poetry chapbooks, most recently including FONDANT PIG ANGST (Slash Pine Press), Tongue Like a Stinger (Wheelhouse), POST-STROKE (Blood Pudding Press for Dusie Kollektiv 5) and Thirteen Designer Vaginas (Hyacinth Girl Press). She is currently submitting her second full-length poetry collection. You may find out more at

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