What happened up there?

Jack and Jill
went up the hill
to fetch a pail of water.
When Jack came down
he'd learned to frown
and Jill had lost her laughter.

Yaw and Split

Rust. It's not hard to see
the untimely slouch of metal wing.
Yaw and split. Rust
on the wing, musk on the wind
lurid to the nose,
bitter mingled (better mangled) with the fire of sweat.

Fear. It's not hard to see
the nervous grind of eyes on windows
hoping rust holds out
or rather
holds in the wind /
holds in the wing.
But if this fucking thing is going down
then I'm going to enjoy the ride.

Sex and Philosophy

warm sting of my flesh
aged sun untangles her hair
questions ribbon us

Wanderer Through the Cold Waste - pt. 1

Awake before the weak break of lichen moon
run aground against a cold coast.
Silhouette human
alone,
on hilltop, knifing in-
to sky underbelly, July thunder
bellowing. Clouds billow.

This landscape is
unfamiliar. Unfamilieu. Un-
heimlich:
hills lacquered pill white
cowled by gargoyle trees.

Something deeply troubling happened here.

His measured footprints calculate
the time taken to undulate
from snowtopped mound to frozen gorge.
Sixty eight
days, not a
minute less.
No other tracks pattern the snow.

Sunshine Bomb

Another grim old morning and grey.
Glacial clouds lumber, making
and unshaping fibrous fractures.
These veins pour lavender and cinnamon.

Sunshine acts as a wave-particle
duality, therefore both smothering
and bombarding the planet.
It fattens and bursts like butterfly pupa.

Somewhat Endless

Stop the clock
The ticking bomb
This fucking bullshit
Goes on and on and on and on
And on and on and on
And on and on and on
And on

Antigone: A Lesser Tragedy

Antigone raged at the failure of State
in putting its people below its ideals.
She danced her way to her burial place
and summoned the devil to strike a deal.