When the strings and co come to town

No wonder the 19th century poets were ope’ addicts.
No television,
And it took an orchestra from Vienna to reach earthly heaven
Death knolls were entertainment,
kinda grabs you by the neck, no?
but no-bells (Prizes) for imagination
Can’t wait for my dream sequel,
if death were dreaming, there’d be no Hell
“Oh, I’ll fly away, dear Jesus,”
when the strings and co. come to town
swooping in and out of appreciation
between epiphany
and wonder transcending

Mantis religiosa (only-pricks-of-protein)

Curious, I enter her sight
as the lab coats watch
administrating bright lights and magnifying glasses from above,
ingesting her scent, I approach cautiously,
we pray,
we stare
we flirt,
we dance,
our wings flitter
against the glass ceiling–you stop.
I tackle her into the grassy Green
rolling around abdomens aligned.

I gesture to leave,
but you blink and motion back,
toothed arms rubbing my chest gripping
her-moans–my fantasy,

locked, lips draw blood,
her arms thrash my sternum,
the S-bending of her abdomen revolves,
she blinks again as the
antennae lash out the eyes
and the late summer sky.

Epilogue:
“Placing them in the same jar, the male, in alarm, endeavored to escape. In a few minutes the female succeeded in grasping him. She first bit off his front tarsus, and consumed the tibia and femur. Next she gnawed out his left eye…it seems to be only by accident that a male ever escapes alive from the embraces of his partner”
-Leland Ossian Howard, Science, 1886