in barbaric ice

(click on the play button above & watch my short film doppelgänger)


An atavistic
blood ablution, frozen sharp,
in barbaric ice.

The sun sliced a cut
of cold light onto his face —
a bullet-dry hole.

A frozen wasteland
left behind, village to sea,
I, cold-blooded, stalk.

IMG_1706 2“Under, then, under the front porch, in the loam
of the burning and smoking land, the de-
foliated, under that pyre of bones, we scrabble,
and struggle together to hear ourselves think.”

— Elizabeth Alexander / “Notes From”

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....
This entry was posted in Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s