Devil Bound —bY Avra Margariti

Never board a steam engine,

I was told by pious relatives.

It is the devil’s carriage headed

Straight for the mouth of Hell.

I traded my prayer book for a ticket

Densely printed, staining my fingers

Dark with wanderlust.

Unlike ships, trains have no need

For figureheads to ward against

Siren songs and cataclysmic waves.

Yet I swear I saw her face, a Maenad

Carved in red, black mamba mouth

Screaming, oh-so-kissable.

Cradled within my metal contraption

I raced across forgotten wastelands

And lunar landscapes, past

Half-buried prehistoric megafauna

And husks of alien vessels.

When I waved, vestigial tentacles

And severed wings waved back.

Travel spawns pangs of hunger.

I licked the walls for blood

And minerals, crunched

Coal between my teeth,

Gulped down greedy lungfuls

Of air infused with sulphur.

Machinations clamored in my mind

As my sharpened nails traced shapes

Onto my body, dermatographic map

So I could find my way back

To the devil’s own lair

As I pleased.

AUTHOR BIO:

Avra Margariti is a queer author, Greek sea monster, and Pushcart-nominated poet with a fondness for the dark and the darling. Avra’s work haunts publications such as Vastarien, Asimov’s, Liminality, Arsenika, The Future Fire, Space and Time, Eye to the Telescope, and Glittership. “The Saint of Witches”, Avra’s debut collection of horror poetry, is forthcoming from Weasel Press. You can find Avra on twitter (@avramargariti).