CABIN FEVER

Nevermind the elephant in the room
How about the giraffe making his charge
For the window or the raven flying circles
Around my neck as I sit in the hearth
Of the fireplace–where my face can’t
Be seen looking up at the stars
Choking on the soot of my thoughts

 
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MATAS

Between some freshly-laid piss and vomit from some 'china girl' or 'odradek,' he collapses or more accurately 'subsides' after tracing a penta-grammed ridgeline of ashes and stardust; right off the porcelain lid, shattering Corporal... Continue →