his crypt is fallen into disarray
a monument to better times
fat maggots litter the ground
feasting upon the decay that litters the world around him
a tragedy out of sync
besmirched by bedlam and bountiful beleaguered breathing
he rises with the moon
a wheezing shambling creature
bereft of sanctity in a land of miscolored delusion
draped in a callous disregard for life
plagued by issuances and tossed about into the chaotic ley lines of desolate disingenuous collusion
a ghoul in the shape of man
a ramshackle caricature of livelihood
he has become a fun house mirror image of what he once was
malformed skeletal juttings and off putting angles forming a nondescript merrickesque parody of modern man
his outer shell now aligned with inner torment
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Wow
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Wow. The transformation I envision of the man in my mind is outstanding. I can see it so clearly. It’s terrible and glorious all at once.
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i’m not positive but i think it was a self portrait. i am kind of gloriously terrible.
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Even more perfect.
I fear I am in danger of over-using that term…
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that’s okay. we can call it artistic license. look how long van gogh milked the ear thing.
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Haha! Right. Totally. Such a drama king, for sure…
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Hahaha
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