this way’s coming…


Cantering and rolling, rolling,
Sancho got them happy feet —
A crown makes three by the mango tree.

Riot of pink and red hibiscus —
Frippery festoons his flanks —
Sancho down one, Sancho up two.

Writhing with the unnamable —
Waiting for the ineffable —
Sancho, scythe this way’s coming…

It’s the season of the felling —
Looka that corona, Sancho,
Blistering ’round the blackening sun.

“MAY: Everyone’s equal.

JUNE: There’s always someone on top, someone at the bottom.

MAY: You don’t believe none of it?

JINE: Never did. Do what you have to do. I ain’t stupid, stuffed my pockets full of gold, I did…”

— Sarah Grochala / S-27

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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