When you’re dehydrated You’re facing absolution, You’re subtracting from Yourself. You can Add, if you pay attention. The world is a set up Distraction, illusion From the whole point Of hydration. Is the body it’s own security, Own cell and guard? One time, a whole lot Go against a whole
In the Hespian Woods, I had a childhood friend, a wind demon. His name was Auriga. We used to glide through the woods together, me on his back. Auriga was wiry and very deft, easily flying through twisted boughs and matted roots. Together, we learned to slip in and out
I looked at life snuffed out of a black man like he were my mother’s pagne, lunging from the shadows of blue uniforms like earth escaping flood, ark seeking land. I wasn’t there but I know him and how his skin pores broke into bells that couldn’t take a
Mother. Ravaged. By. Soft. Heart. By. Men. With. Dead. Nails. Gums. Livers. Fists. Daughter. Witnessed. Weeping. Bruising. Cowering. Fridge. Bears. Broom. Smile. He. Tried. To. Beat. Her. Clean. Steered. Us. Into. Oncoming. Traffic. Shook. Hands. With. Kitten. Neck. Called. Me. Cunt. Asked. Me. To. Piss. For. Him. Camel. Cigarettes. Mohawk.
I am a house that you refuse to enter. Pipes aching in every color, walls that give at the slightest touch and china leaping from the cabinets smashing itself attacking itself have I mentioned I hate light touch? Why must you come so gingerly don’t you see the rest of
He took a socket wrench to her heart, released some valves, steam hissing a fit, changed her carburetor, removed the split gasket. She let him under her hood, but did not expect a modified engine with humongous exhaust pipes. The sudden shifts from overheated to air conditioned nauseated her
A door you could only enter once steel and shineless so many people had entered I saw some of them standing still and others pressing on (it opened to a bizarre expanse of wild, the further in the more strange and dangerous, everyday monsters turning before your eyes) like their
Gaze at the horizon where water and sky draw thin delineation that curves slight, highlighted by sunbeam askew, bouncing off atmosphere and water surface to create this mirror above. I shellac this gondola because the folks of Isle de Jean Charles deserve a ride, and I’ll dip my oar,
follow the dancer call on the primas sizzling on ice like cherry vanilla soda pop whore sex worker a name all in a frame they might be ballerinas and still fuck they
i step out of my well only to step into your well. stepping out of a microwell we step into a macrowell. we then witness people diving from macrowells to microwells too. the world is made of wells and we exist in wells within wells. there
