Your Mantle Is Showing

I am a fish,
Fresh from hell,
And foaming at
The mouth.
My skin is slick
With spit and sick
From the pit
Of a ravenous man.
Shot down
By the planes and
Trains of run-on
Sentences
That invade and trade
Riddles in my confiscated
Brain.
I tackle them
Down into dreams
Where they gleam in
The seems of
A renegade trial.
My denial,
I seek.
And phantasms that
Wake in my phallic
Prayers
As grizzly bears
That tear me to shreds
Remind me
I am not dead.
I am caught
In a struggle of
Cat and mouse
In a house
And not a home
So this poem
Serves me my dues
And my selfish needs
My hard-hearted deeds
Sent tumbling
Into a rabbit hole
To hell
With everything else.