Your pareidolia / My pneumonia

•Hey things could be beautiful•If I understood your semiotics for pulmonary distress•What do you mean you see Jesus’s face on this rye crisp?•Hey things could be beautiful•This wounded choking burning micro plastic forever chemical infused is yours•So cough up a bronchial sac on this virus-ridden hyper-capitalist deterministic orb•Make of it what you will•Hey things could be beautiful•Your paredolia is my pneumonia•Hey•

What I’m Reading:

“All of which is to say, I didn’t pay a hell of a lot of attention to grammar, and when I write it is for the love of the word, the color, like tossing paint on a canvas, and using a lot of ear and having read a bit here and there, I generally come out ok, but technically I don’t know what’s happening, nor do I care.”

— Charles Bukowski / On Writing