Category: AKA

The story in which the other wasted bottom dismisses her own route to the oddly safe shock

Against her bland backdrop of albescent tunnel vision

   - expressing something deep within
   loaded with dense long material

Long ago she quit the river,
   could not hold her uneven bottom
   too long,
Young, disheveled wet,
   tiled against a captured sky
   in the peripheral game
      of the lovely antiquated

The world is a sigh
The sites in the mind where things have happened
are visited by emaciated frothing thieves,
  their daggers in their sides

It’s all about identity,

Precious.

along
the beaches of your mind
are
loose bolts and
screws,
rusted only
from the wetness in the air

A voice crawls over the azure horizon
A voice, dissipating
into the sea
finer than its salt unseen
in the chariot of apparent water

Helios, and storm,
and rush of the clouds,
the shot,
of the rain drop
that sang itself into existence
over the ocean
and situated at the midpoint
between each and every shore
those ahead and afore
the one drop
ravager of cities
caresser of children and
the desiccated sacs of the elders

inside of me
is the wet scream
and i am made of fire

inside of me
is the smoke scream
born of abayed ire

attending

this is why we marry in the modern day,
or go to church, or converse about going to church

The god$ have allowed commercials to accompany the
tastes of the shit theyve instructed us to eat

All the bodies designated for delirium,
sloosh to one side where the wall is raw with chomping maws