Dungeon Majesty

Devastina

barbarian mistress

tougher than a troglodyte hide

two headed battle axe

cleaves skeletons in the musty caverns

rage as you do but 

careful around Mystika's

classy skinny skeleton slave

Boney M

Mystika--she takes life away

just as easy as she gives it

and her clothes are woven

with spidery silken threads

made of mystery

and darkness

a very

necromantic

kind of lifestyle

a beast nearby polymorphs into

Shakuntala, half elf

warrior child of two divorced worlds

she wills upon her foes a natural disaster

she does whatever the fuck she wants

because she is--I am pretty sure--

chaotic neutral

over her shoulder Latiza sends

2 x magic missile pow pow!

you said you go to wizard school?

psssh

double magic missile is in Latiza's blood

a part of her body as much as her beguiling

blazing eye balls

these four vanquish foes so bad

every night the dungeon master

weeps himself to sleep

majesty of the dungeon;

matriarch rulers of fate

you may pretend to roll the dice as though it were your master

but you bad-asses are not fooling anybody

purikura girl

purikura girl
transcends something

every time she

goes in

the purikura

how do we collect
this stuff

even though

we are the ones

who make it

create
a perfect
capitalism











spider queen

hatchlings in the lair
deep underground

dear reader,
I know what you are thinking but
her lair is extremely
well decorated

spider queen has the keenest
spider sense

also
the keenest
sharp spider mandibles

spider queen every day
your dark elf spider minions
engage in a never-ending war with the scientists over

who will control

all humans

I hope it stays that way because
there is no good or
evil in this world
only spider queen

Guest poem by Noah T.

Kestrel friend,

Wicker-wired pebble caster

Pattering across the billowing wastes

Leather flap encumbered and jangling

Of your master’s key.

Spread your puffy willow throat

And cry the way I told you,

The way the skyburst oysters do

In my father’s country.

The winds smell of persimmon and ivory,

Swaying the rough-shinned date palms

Whispering outside our door

Like anxious matrons.

Poems to mythical entites #3

Elf Queen

please do not
lead me astray

elf queen you prepare me a feast
but I am the one you want to consume

elf queen you rule
from a wooded throne
and I
am an intruder
in your queendom

please grant me safe passage
through these woods

I am so
clumsy
in the presence of your
elvish grace

please forgive me










Cockatrice

there are an estimated
47 distinct ways
to be killed
by a cockatrice

always they are
turning people into stone

be wary of a cockatrice's hiss
it will hiss one third of the time

normally
hissing has a ten percent chance to begin
the petrification process

If it is a new moon
and you are not carrying a lizard corpse
the chance to die is one hundred percent

if you are turning into stone
you can eat a lizard corpse to stop it
even lizard from a tin can works

better open that can
quickly

poems to mythical entities #2

emilio you are not an
actor you are a
fucking shape shifter

i watched mighty ducks #1
73 times

still i do not know
your secret

emilio cardiac arrestevez
emilio depressedevez
emilio "i'm the bestevez"

you laugh at me
while you fly around in your
green space car

emilio-
lets go get sushi
and not pay

vaosan
you have more HKs than carter
has liver pills

people say nasty things about you but
its just because you clear all the shit
realm first

already i know
you know
you already knew that
already

WHAT IS THE BLACK SMOKE MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MANTICORE

you are always
flailing
flailing about
with your terrible
claws

your venom
is nasty
and nobody even
likes you
but manticores
like it better that way




RADIANT MAN

in the Huffin House bathroom
you are glowing every
hour of the night

you watch over me
when I am peeing
always with your
sad & honest eyes
eyes incapable of judgement
eyes just like
your still beating heart

Radiant Man
you are the patron saint
of urine
and we leave our human hairs
in the drain of the shower
as offerings
to your quiet splendor

I know you wish the world
were not this way
but I am glad you will still
accept me as I am
if not always
then for at least as long
as we leave you plugged in




SORCERER

you are the root
of all my misery

always
watching with your
furrowed brow

your powers
are long and white
like the hairs
on your mage head

that is because
your hair
is where you keep your powers

people say
my poems are
formulaic

but nobody says that
about your magic spells
and when you think about it
those two are not so different

I know you see
a twisted future
when you look through
your demon oculus

I only wish I could know
your true intention

maybe then
my visions of you
would not haunt me quite so bad

we are nothing but chumps
in your metaphysical game of craps

every time we roll the dice
we roll two
thousand serpent eye balls

you watch me in your
obsidian orb
as I get home and
sit down at the typewriter:

"SORCERER

you are the root
of all my misery,"

I write



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