making space

we r a not of this world ppl n the absence of places 2 b / we hav mooovd ourselves 2 other planets / planted our colorless flags on invisible cratered space / & called dibs on a new moon on our moon we breathe free / & never worry of foot on neck / … Continue reading making space

imperial desire (or why won’t donald die)

  all of his orgasms were made of blood he spoke of economies of ecstacy, preservation, and saving the world from doom with a sour mouth that feasted on the death of powers which he absorbed into himself and transmuted into pleasure tongue strokes from the mouth of a viper imputing venom translucent and sticky … Continue reading imperial desire (or why won’t donald die)

the soiling

  he fingered her lace, widening the holes, little to no regard that they would never shrink to their original size. it was skin, delicate and servile, ornamental in his eyes. in the end, her porous body was broken, shattered, like silver fragments of mirror reflections of fading brightness, shining even in decline. she held … Continue reading the soiling

a mighty powerful thing

i must be a mighty powerful thing like a man's legs crossed or a moustached woman or like desire when it mounts you and rides you into the sunset like hunger pain all bunched up between your legs must be something like the sight of yourself in the morning in the mirror that makes you … Continue reading a mighty powerful thing