a foreboding step


The snow turns to slush,
Overnight a sheath of ice,
A foreboding step.

A death threat in Denmark
Over the telephone and emails
The children should all be killed
Using a bolt pistol then skinned
And fed to the lions to prevent
Inbreeding and scientific knowledge.

The part of the sea,
Wet, failing to flood upstream
East of the river.

Losing Again as Overflow
The river burst upstream, the latest bout,
Places the water east of this week.
Part of the sea, wet since 1766,
Has been under criticism
For failing to visit the flood.

Black capped chickadee,
Dead, fell from the barren oak
Frozen on the grass.

-make a connection/word for foot noting the sections in Belkys

-the letters in a book leave the pages and blind and become lodged in the throat of the man who is reading it

-here comes a headache in my lower brain

I’ve come untethered
Three days lost and out of sorts
Now the correction

Sitting on the train
The snow blows blinding outside
Heavy wet and sad

The Wailers’ singles
Provide the syncopation
Propelling the day

The evil power of sixteen electroshocks,
Pluck the sun from the sky
In a casual soporific manner.
The moon in its infinite darkness
Is a devil on an aureole
Limned in a blinding fire.

On the balcony
In yellow afternoon light
A thrush in the snow

Pink skies cede to blue,
Melted snow transformed to ice,

Placed in the security bin,
No problem, thank you.
Serving compliments, complaints and suggestions:
E as in Edward, please listen carefully catch and check.

I will work for tripe
Pepper pot is beautiful
Visceral goodness

(audio intercept)
That is awesome, the guy in the gray
Cuff him and zip it
I saw you guys intertwined
We’re trying to drink and have a good time
No tolerance, you three are going to jail
As the night wears on
A man possibly intoxicated, no teeth,
Is trying to go home but there are only remnants
Of trash and we call it a successful weekend.

My mother’s birthday
Brings me to Miami heat,
A long tepid trip.

West, the dream maker bicycles.
For all ages, a unique paradise
Only one mile by sought after

“Nations, to make sense of themselves, need some kind of agreed-upon past. They can get it from scholars or they can get it from demagogues, but get it they will.”

— Jill Lepore / This America: The Case for the Nation

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:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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