ASPHYXIUM ZINE

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Poem: "The Briar Patch" by Coralie Rowe

The Briar Patch
Coralie Rowe

A scritchity, scratchity noise ensued
Getting faster and faster under blackened hue
Blanketed silence broken by an awful scritch scratch
A nightmarish echo floating from o'er the briar patch

A shishking, shushking repetitive sound
Like fleas being scratched from the back of a hound
Over and over and on it went
Driving me round, till I twas almost bent

I followed the noise and found the sound
Twas a funny looking hill but kinda a mound
What looked like hair, stuck out in little patches
And wiry little hands caused the sound of the scratches

I couldn't believe what it was that I saw
And I do admit I kinda dropped my jaw
I stood there with my eyes and mouth wide
Just stood there stock still, stopped in mid stride

I finally found my senses and as such came to
Waking from a nonsensical notion… I musta had a few
I blinked real hard and rubbed my eyes raw
But there it still was… what I swear I never saw

How could a hill have tiny hands scratching hair
And how could I be the only one standing there
No one would believe me and what it was that I saw
No one else was there to drop their jaw

I stepped a bit closer just a wee tiny bit
To see if I could see what in hell twas it
The tiny little hands still scritched and scratched
So I approached very cautiously to the closest hair patch

And as I saw it … it saw me
A twisted evil thing that looked like a gnarly tree
With razor sharp teeth and hard black eyes
It looked at me with an attitude of despise

It still kept scratching at the random hair patch
And as I watched it scratch I never noticed the grass thatch
The grassy thatch behind me, it did start to move
But I was to mesmerised by the scratching's groove

The shishking and shushking had rendered me numb
This was proven when something just bit off my thumb
I barely noticed the teeth gnawing on me
As I kept watching the evil thing scratching furiously

They gnawed on my thumb and my foot as well
They nibbled me all over these creatures from hell
They nibbled and gnawed and chewed away
And I swear I heard one say I'd be great with a chardonnay

I was eaten alive as I just stood there
Eaten alive and all I could so was stare
Eaten down to my very marrow and bone 
is a very good reason why I should have stayed at home

So now I am but just another little hair patch
On the hillish mound getting scritch scratched
The only thing left not eaten, my hair
Now getting scratched from here to there

This is my warning I'll give to you now
If you ever hear a scritch scratching don't wonder how
Leave it be... just let it scratch away
Or you may not live to see another day

No comments:

Post a Comment