Crepuscule… by Peter Marra



naked spirits invited to the burning buildings

see black weather flights of skin.

a feast begins and a slow dance

noise has diminished.

a pity that’s told over and over again to their offspring is

surgically applied to memory:

leather thongs torturing eyeballs

their lids woven tightly together – a time for time.

a cold endeavor.

venture outside and see the blackness.

a room: a red oval shape turning many times over.

the quality adjusted the life of the disease,

drawn out over a bed of nails.

it endures as a massive, gargling convulsion.

a whimpering.


Peter Marra is from Williamsburg Brooklyn. Born in Brooklyn, he lived in the East Village, New York from 1979-1993 at the height of the punk – no wave movement. Peter has had a lifelong fascination with Surrealism, Dadaism, and Symbolism. His poems explore alienation, sex, love, addiction, havoc, secrets, and obsessions often recounted in an oneiric filmic haze. A surrealist and Dadaist, he was first published in Maintenant 4 and has had approximately 50 poems published in the past year in the following journals,, blue and yellow dog, Breadcrumb Scabs, Calliope Nerve, Caper Literary Journal, Carcinogenic, Carnage Conservatory, Clutching At Straws,Crash, Danse Macabre, dark chaos, farthermost dream, Indigo Rising Magazine, L.E.S.Review, mad swirl, Maintenant 4, Maintenant 5, negative suck, Sex and murder, Subliminal Interiors, Sweet Flowery Roses, The Beatnik, the vein, Why Vandalism?, Yes Poetry, Petrichor, Phantom Kangaroo, Unlikely, Apocrypha And Abstractions, Pipe Dreams, including an interview in Yes,Poetry. Among his influences are Tristan Tzara, Paul Eluard, Edgar Allan Poe, Russ Meyer, and Roger Corman.

Copyright © 2012 by Peter Marra


5 thoughts on “Crepuscule… by Peter Marra

  1. A Poe- ish punk surreal look at Marra’s splintered universe that explores his own take of a
    gnostic split brawl in a screed of street-wise dark sided humour that lands a punch at accepted realities,respectability and sensibility with an alchemy brew of adverse images which shocks
    us in sibilant recognition of his mind racing world.

  2. …..oh that inapt memory stitched in place, a bleeding cure a curse….love this piece. It is the setting, the backdrop….how perfect the title, and it’s antithesis “magic hour” creating a desirable light in film.

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