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Disturbance #163

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Boneflesh !crackle! beneath my fists; there's pressure against my body but no pain, my machine-fists pound blindly
pound and crush pound and snap pound and break and/
pound and pound again
and there is hot liquid on my fists and on my face and there is mechanical energy flowing relentlessly into my arms as they hammer like immense crazed engines of iron into flesh becoming pulp and still they hammer
and pound and pound and -
sight re-focuses, and beneath me is Reverend Samuel, motionless and unrecognisable; and a knife -
fleeting flash of steel, bloodied haft, my bloodier hand.

1 comment add one below

  • avatar

    D.M. over 4 years ago

    the repetition and poetic format accentuate the actions

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