the terminal line

structure crumbles

belt buckles rain down
the devils hail

there are appropriate ages
for beatings

oh the father of violence
red skin welts

meat tumescent
meet the father terminal lines

pillows protect the soft underbelly
urchin turned upside down

cord yanked silence
radio silence

papa was a rollin stone
deafness sharp

hot arms edge throb
the devil’s pincers

stars appear in throes
the dark choke

the black red
liminal space

“I
Have a fish nailed
To a cross
On my apartment wall
It sings to me with glassy eyes
And quotes from Kafka … “


— Throwing Muses / “Fish”

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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