the poorophet – Pure Pooetry

Cthulpoo

Tendrils of gas linger through the town. Corrupting those dreams to nightmares of brown. All as one the townsfolk behold …

Pure Pooetry

With a demonic grunt, an unholy sound. I push out thick riffs of coiling brown. My body shakes from the …

Pure Pooetry

Salty brown spread to go on your toast. As far as breakfasts go I like it the most. Vitamins expended …

Pure Pooetry

The lie some tell to placate oneself. Pipedream of belonging, love, or of wealth. Won’t be pushed out by others’ …

Pure Pooetry