the din

her peppercorn objectives engorged / animating her dreams and warmed over sentiments / a cryptically streamlined mantra workstation churning passels of pap and paranoia / her senses lacquered into a veneer of personhood / her soul adhering to her make up towel

the strum / the dredges / the subterfuge of menace / more enticing than ever / more recondite despite its allure

he dreams of sarcophagi and cataclysmic showers / papyrus scrolls in surreal colors / dayglo patinas pulsating / ululating mystic vowels / sours on his testicular absence / bitter and dissociative / obsessive and abscessive

the hand is ambiguous / a figurine cut out / a stylus animosity / pinned down on maroon felt

hark / they paint by numbers

look / they fail to see

they soundtrack asynchronous duets in three-quarter time / they semiquaver sigh all the readymade cruelties of life 

they fail / fail again / fail better

What I’m Reading:

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

— Samuel Beckett / Worstward Ho