Fetishizing demon claws
That reach through dimension
And gash at souls
The enraged kidney shot
rupturing blood and urine into the body cavity
As a sepsis that cannot be healed
Without devastating financial loss
This perversity that carries us through days and strife—
The sunrise, full of vigor and promise behind the dogfood factory
As the coal in the filthy cars rumbles beneath my feet
As if the concentration of that which kills the environment
Being tankered in by the ton is common enough to ignore
until death and comprehension are one.
for whatever perpetuity means
To other people. In ways that don’t make any sense
I dream of wolves, endlessly. In the depths of myself
Swarms of night creatures, reveling in chaos.
As vultures rioting upon a carcass
Where the decay of everything
Presents an endless feast of scraps.
And still; I was there. Prescient and carnal
When it mattered, when the will of self held us from injury and violence
as they fired upon us. blindly
to spread the wings of reality into opposing winds
Willing. As if it were something I have always known
And I see it for what it is, and question if it can be undone
trading strength and stamina for peace and comfort
In the helm of some postindustrial altar
separating my mind into dangerous, supernatural places
haunting me with its pending existence
Drawing mælstrom power from beyond these vulgar scenes
As if all of it is an act. This charade of some petty excellence.
that will be forgotten in bloodshed
when compassion that has been eroded at all levels
manifests itself as public shootings
ultimately, there comes a point where words no longer matter.
And in the background I think of the syringes and the feces.
On the way to, and from, work.
Where I contribute in clothing the refugees—
To be slaughtered in the house of capitalism.
As if it has not already consumed the best parts of me
Like something to aspire, in venomous attempt
To use actions as language;
As we are beset on all sides by the consequence of our addictions.
