sold us all

black matte spray collimate ii.

at the museum of digest feminism
Boccaccio quotes have been stricken thru

the time to digress was then—
sometime in the 14th century wrought

in yersinia pestis yellow and arte della lana blue—
centuries before its gabardine inception

such foul humors seep thru the crack
in Boccaccio’s wall

the identifying placard in the shape
of a carmine-limned lanced buboe

“Meanwhile, we’re drinking our four-dollar lattes and improving our bodies. The capitalist world has sold us all on…”

so much depends on a red
transliteration

glazed with testosterone rage beside
the white klan hood

“Sod it, let’s see what comes out!
¡mierda! postmodern deconstructed construction”

“We have plans for you, they say.
And we laugh. As narcotic ghosts cling
to the storms of our bodies
we laugh.”

— Marie-Andrée Gill / Spawn

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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