Spells of hatred and atrophied thought

The glimmer of my future carcass
At roads edge
Festered naked
Just hidden from the glazed commuters
Notoriety
Renditions
Bruised throat choking
In sex murderers unsuspected hands
In salacious edits and reconstructions

A slip of a crow predictably harvests:
Pongy innards
Absent narrative
A lack of doing structure
Caged paddling
Living things.
From my rot.

My juices flux in minute seasons
Evaporating stenches
With turns of British weather
Flesh recedes to reveal
Bald bone looking out
Peeking:
Cheekily
Ribbedly
Kneefully

Dead of functions
A hidden frame
A secret hold me up
Shows the canopy a dissection etching

I am growing maggots from face
Beetles
And a blanket of fertilized foliage
Brambles
Dark fruit
A squish of gorged worms and
A longing for my tabloided star
To shoot across your dark
Woeful robothood seeking
To imprison a monster
Your creation creator

A walking of the dogs

I am now found