(Horror poem published in horror short story and poetry anthology, Creepies 2: Things That Go Bump In The Closet. 10/29/15.http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B017AXQVDE )
MACHETE MAN
Years ago, Tobias, walked along El Rio de las Plumas
It flowed out of the high mountains of the Sierra Valley
Spectres who died in a long ago flood
Water streaming from their mouths as they
Moaned in their perpetuity
Hydro powered into reservoirs and
Wandered the river’s edge
Searching for something lost in the mud
He never forgot what he saw
It consumed him
It changed him
Electric shock treatments did not dissipate his visions
Electric shock treatments did not dissipate his urge for cock
Later, released from the mental hospital he found odd jobs
The day laborer was his first
He lead him out to the fields
The backside aroused him
Afterwards, he hacked with his machete
Rivulets of sweat powered his ambition
So easy
It was like a melon
The bloody brains were the scattered pits
In the peach tree grove
Like the barrio kids scrambling to get out of his way when he walked by
Shouting obscenities,
“Pinche loco!”
“Chinga tu madre!”
All he heard were the confluent waters that flooded the land with feathers
His soul
Buried deep beneath the muddy waters
He knew the dead ones would never find it
Still they searched
He hated their persistence
It was all so easy after that
He told himself they were useless lazy putos
His power aroused him
He laughed at the one who knelt before him
Begging for his life
“Turn around and pull your pants down!”
GRUNT!
GRUNT!
SWOOSH!
HACK!
HACK!
CHOP!
CHOP!
Gurgle
Gurgle
Flow like a river
Cum and gore
Red and brown where sky and earth meet
Mothers murmur to their vookies
“Be home before dark
Or the Machete Man will chop you to pieces!”
He has dementia now
Deep in a hollow prison
Like his soul
Trapped in the dried mud
Parole denied
I will one day roam the muddy edgewaters with you
En El Rio de las Plumas
© 2011 Diana Garcia. Poetry All Rights Reserved.
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