A Savage Republic

A negative feedback loop. Petroglyphs and door flips. Petrichor — a savage feedback loop — a savage republic. Put out the fire.

Frying in its own fat. Permafrost melting. The warming leading to fire. Fire and friars with intention — without compunction — never knowing regret.

All portent from here. The dark briars thick with illness.

Without agency — a magnificent disaster — falling and implicated. Smothering never staying. Praying without saying a thing. Prattling.

Sneak a chunk up your pant leg — white hot and abrupt. A life of impunity ends abruptly on a moonless dirt road. This country is vast and vacuous. 

What I’m Reading:

Even now, as this vile age comes to a shuddering, bathetic end, we are so polite. We continue to buy things. We write letters. We argue about protocol. We say this or that can’t happen, or won’t. They couldn’t possibly. But it can, and they will.

— Carmen Maria Machado / Introduction to new edition of I Who Have Never Known Men