ephemera finds a home

a monk’s murk roils
on tuesday thursday
within the hairshirt
of sadness and fury

the exophony of another
tongue begs:
please move on
with this glossolalia jacket

a derecho blows
feckless anagrams, altostratus,
and tornado doppelgänger
swing the heartache (beyond set)

beyond recognition
Ñackets, Ñackets! bullyboy cries,
this is the movement of fear
so watch your peripheries

do the bullyboy creep
and squall
it’s my birthday, too, yeah!
another year in the life of the fugu-flaker

we’ve hit the coda — poison,
lenticular, monocular, oulipian (in spirit)
and bipedal . . .
an ouroboros unclenched from its tail

parapraxis
say what?
another mono-tonal slip —
we’re plucking the scabs

this is a minatory moment
this is a crisis of faith
ephemera
finds a home

What I’m Reading:

As fascism always does, today’s Armageddon complex crosses class lines, bonding billionaires to the Maga base. Thanks to decades of deepening economic stresses, alongside ceaseless and skillful messaging pitting workers against one another, a great many people understandably feel unable to protect themselves from the disintegration that surrounds them (no matter how many months of ready-to-eat meals they buy). But there are emotional compensations on offer: you can cheer the end of affirmative action and DEI, glorify mass deportation, enjoy the denial of gender-affirming care to trans people, villainize educators and health workers who think they know better than you, and applaud the demise of economic and environmental regulations as a way to own the libs. End times fascism is a darkly festive fatalism – a final refuge for those who find it easier to celebrate destruction than imagine living without supremacy. 

— Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor / “The rise of end times fascism” / The Guardian