The Show Tell Project

For Seymour's Fat Lady

Tag: verse

The Grim

by fyarlgiles


A necrotized

claw has sprouted from the

neck of my favorite lace gown.

At first, it was a pool

of strawberry syrup

as bright and red

as a freshly skinned knee–

And then,

under the hanging tangerine fog of a Sunday afternoon,

it melted upward

into a


sickled flower

of bloodless quiet

anticipating its reflection

in me.

“The Grim” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Sarah Cruce

In Time for Forever

by fyarlgiles


I bask in the mist

of forgotten monsoons and slow-crawling moons.

Where my naked back,

strong and silky,

pleads  for the brilliance of  electric green blasts

to ride above me

in explosions that leave sparks

in my hair.

and scars on my neck

that will never fade away

like time seems to do

“In Time for Forever” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Steven Quinn

The Lonely Man’s Monster

by fyarlgiles


His fingertips

made numb by the chills of solitude

reach out

to feel her body writhe.

She is  a cold, wet snake under his touch,

slick and yielding like clay.

Whispers in the stale air agree

that she is a decaying wretch.


he seeks her spoiled heart

and her cloudy eyes

to save him from seclusion.

“The Lonely Man’s Monster”  by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork: “Utentes Adormecidos” by Hugo Barros

A Very Blustery Day

by fyarlgiles


 a glorious  gust

of bellowing wind

swept me up

and blew me round

through honey-colored

dew and lace

 above the tame and hollow town

the thrill of flight

was full

but brief

for dust that travels

with the breeze

must always settle in the ground

in cracking bricks

of dismal peace


Artwork: “Flying High” by Vin Zzep:

Wise Old Sea

by fyarlgiles


 A resentful heart

 splintered and stale

settles slowly

like the angry tides

that thrash before the radiant sun

then smack the shore

tired and defeated

but wiser than before

“Wise Old Sea” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Sarah Cruce

Building an Empire

by fyarlgiles


whispers surf on the wind

seeking the minds of men

where to  conquer next, little dogs?

A world we have lived in

but never have seen

The King’s Dinner

by fyarlgiles


That foolish heart

that quakes and quivers

 fears and fancies


for  fate affirms

that it must fall

to fix

a feast

 of florid fare


Artwork by Kris Tate:


by fyarlgiles


My goodness relents

to bath in muddy waters.

for a moment


I break

 embracing my own corruption

 There is no forgiveness

only the bliss

of truth

 “Self” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Sarah Cruce

Taste of a Woman

by fyarlgiles


She is the taste that leaves me withered

and sore

but still

My lips tremble in anticipation of her

I crave endlessly

her porcelain shoulders

slim and flushed

against satin sheets and velvet pillows

devour me

til dawn 

til death

let me


all that you are

“Hunger” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Pledant:

Look Back in Anger

by meaghanmerrifield


my form and what it contains

for once

one in the same

they say you see red

but all

i ever see



“Look Back in Anger” by Meaghan Merrifield

Artwork by Francis Bacon