the tactless foot

State I’m In

I took umbrage at the penumbra—
The darkling darkening of my mood—
Was it the partial eclipse of the moon?
(Its waxing moony-moony face: jejune)
Or was it a flaring sunspot’s craquelure of quietude?

Or was it the plague?
Or the fascist wave?
Or the tactless foot?
Of the biomass soot?

Or was it the phallic gun-shaped state
I’m in?

What I’m Reading:

“In the year 2022, three multibillionaires own more wealth than the bottom half of American society – 160 million Americans. Today, 45% of all new income goes to the top 1%, and CEOs of large corporations make a record-breaking 350 times what their workers earn.”

— Bernie Sanders / The Guardian

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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