malevolence with an erection, waiting…




it’s not today anymore

a bruised child 

in yellow terry cloth

flew past my window


windblown          barn bits 

and green cornfield detritus

speckled the turbid sky


it opened up and spat out brittle

lightning and cow

sized hail


roiled in that dark funnel

were the bodies i planted

with the corn seed 

last spring



About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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