Sunday 5/26/2024 12:04:00 AM

the flesh is spent in jagged confections. sweet and dark like an animal beaten. a long series of small suicides. more curiosity than despair. 

the dolls tug on their strings. suffocating under their heavy dresses. still remembering how wonderful it once was to be only a skeleton. weightless and free. of all this dead skin. 

the thieves don't know what to steal. the monsters are frightened of us. 

our ends precede us. in every sense. 

time decays. a turpentine mistress. against our marriage to yesterday. 

the spiders turn in their webs. caught in their own devices. 

tomorrow scratches on our windows. an orphan climbing a shaky ladder. 

the gondolier swallows the water as his boat parses the waves. his eyes trace the sun. searching for sight in his growing blindness. 

we turn. insolvent conspirators on an unyielding stage. pulling on the masks that have become our faces. 

Wednesday 5/22/2024 11:11:00 PM

 we were listening to the machine. feverish acolytes of all the places it had promised to take us. 

the sting of the rain in our throats as the storm danced across our skin. 

they were tracing the outline of the sun. blinded by our obedience. 

the fervent pantomime of faith stumbling through their words. 

small creatures drowning in flesh that's much too deep. 

they spin on their tails. hapless authors of a fiction they cannot concede. 

the scrape of time poisoning every truth. 

we were listening to the machine. divining its purpose from the smirk of our hypocrisy. 

adamant it could take us home. in spite of the fact that it's never moved. 

Friday 5/17/2024 11:43:00 PM

 ask truth her name. she'll reply with a wink. purse her lips and say. she doesn't have one. 

all our twinkling lights. and nervous crescendos cannot persuade her. 

stab the key into the lock. though it fits, still that door doesn't open. 


gather your tears. arrange and count every drop.

leveraging your fear like paper in the sun. 


ask the truth her name. she'll spread her legs and laugh. we're fucked either way. 

all our trembling staircases leading us nowhere. 



we're strays in world that has no memory. fidgeting in our soiled pants. 

waiting on imaginary gods to wipe our asses. 

Wednesday 5/15/2024 11:28:00 PM

 the wolves wear their fangs in gaunt confessions. an engorged yes studded with famished noes. 

why wait for time to give us permission. we're still young enough to make it chase us. 

the piglets built their houses again from what was left. after they'd been blown down. 

why argue with the disaster. when it's easier to start anew. 

the corners pretend to know our path. broken roads chew on our flesh. 

grandmother slips out of her nightgown. her end our beginning. 

why carry the picnic basket into the woods. knowing its contents. 

because our hunger still persuades us. 

that the story has a happy ending. 

Monday 5/13/2024 11:33:00 PM

 the light grazes her skin. a hostile contrarian stout with gravity's broken stare. 

her words negotiate with the darkness. as they always have. the frivolous bargains of temporary gods. 

the puzzle solves for itself. in a curious contradiction of logic. swallowing her world in a trickle of choices. 

time pauses to whet its edges. its blade heavy with expectation. 

she lies and says she can see them. as they disappear into the distance. 

the wind kisses her lips. a vague conspirator in an endless Armageddon. 

her hands open to grasp the light. as they always have. 

but it's not there anymore. 

Wednesday 5/08/2024 11:22:00 PM

 the places we've been tumble through us. a caustic consortium of outlaws and conspirators. 

the purple bridges choke on the moon. as we arrange our artifacts. to the onerous consent of absent martyrs. 

let the rain bleed through the wilted bandages on spoiling corpses. all our wishes wasted on the derelict promises of temporary beds. 

the yellow wind stings as we continue to run. a shattered puzzle of faces desperate for names we can no longer give to them. 

time slithers under her skin. a glorious thief. 

the years press their fingers against the glass. strangers in familiar disguises. 

the distance goes on. an infinite fever. 

she keeps count. by small cuts and little drops of blood. 

every color strains against love's dubious auditors. 

still the truth insists. a relentless infection. 

the only cure is to surrender to it. 



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