by Allister Nelson

“Claws on my back, fangs at my throat. / Musk mixed with cologne and the ashes / of a pricey cigar. Rumination, ruin, these / plots of fallen angels with loss in between.”

by Allister Nelson

“There’s a gateway to heaven, a stairway to hell / my seal on your thigh to guide you well”

by Allister Nelson

“Grace! Asmodeus delights, in his girls and boys, in his den of inequity and sin, with wormwood drinks and time to think of red delicious wounds.”

by Allister Nelson

“twist and turn at a soc hop like it’s your / grandparent’s malt shop dream, sweet teeth, in me are leaves of / hauntings, and to fall from a sycamore and swing from an oak / is but the path of angels lit on fire with the coming Thanksgiving…”

by Allister Nelson

“We played charades under the moonlight, / letting the small hours pass.”

by Allister Nelson

“You were always the blackened disciple, / so quick to pass over the lambs. / You sought lions and bled them dry, / ripped aorta from tiger-flesh.”

by Allister Nelson

“The gasoline of the night bleeds gold velvet of stars / across the clotted scabs of Nyx’s bower, and from / the breast of night, Heylel ben Shachar, Son of Dawn, rises.”

by Allister Nelson

“Swords rust with blood, but the sheath renews / my girl is a knight of twelve blades, red blue.”

by Allister Nelson

“the great god apollo is dead, florid / blood like smattered roses on the grecian / asphalt, where once delos was flocked / full-circle by kingly swans…”

by Allister Nelson

“They said I should have loved a crane wife, her bleeding / out in snow, onto ivory ice, I would give her my cloak and / she would be the female Christ…”

by Allister Nelson

“…throw the wolves your prayers, and perhaps / I will grant you mercy.”

by Allister Nelson

“I sampled his tissue on dishes / Performed counts on cells hidden within…”

by Allister Nelson

“The harvest came late this year, tilling / bones in soil like spare ribs from a dragon.”

by Allister Nelson

“Olympians are just, the women they / desire are pure, they don’t fuck in dirt…”

by Allister Nelson

“Mr. Crowley bends, oh he bends as he pleases! / Into white moonshine steed for Lady Godiva to ride.”

by Allister Nelson

“I had me an old lungbird that / sang deep down in the mines.”

by Allister Nelson

“In blooming blush and noontide wine, shaking / vines for their juices, the serpent divine snakes / her way through the city streets…”

by Allister Nelson

“The brain rattles, the floorboards weep with blood...”

by Allister Nelson

“The fucks last for stratospheres – planes land, touch down, feathers on the ash tray, and his seed is a river through me.”

by Allister Nelson

“When you see Her you will die,” / Michael whispers in my ear, puts his / peacock hands over my eyes…”