Applied for Canadian Grants -But who still cares about poetry?Subjective bias.Specific optics."Goal: Become most prolific.""Most prolific poet in history.""Quantitative data to back it up."Know I'll hear nothing but silence.Another nebulous authority,Spurning my words.Qualitative Trash.
My Work
Ugly Truths:
Ugly Truths:Neighbours,Family,Even friends,Can be banal evils.Phobias of difference.Voting our rights away,Because they misunderstand Politics,To begin with.Hating queers or blacks,Jews or the disabled.We become scapegoats,For their ignorance,Arrogance.Ugly Stupidity.Ugly Truths.
Conservatives Are Liars.
Conservatives Are Liars.Feigning Ignorance -Atop Maliciousness -On Top Of Actual Ignorance."Fiscally Conservative,Socially Liberal."Fucking idiots.Austerity Isn't good economics,& the latter is made up -After all!People are what matters.Hiding true intentions,With lies,Hate.Fuck Cons.
Firmly Inside My Head.
Magic Is Mathematics.Both As Game;Or Ritual.Some Ciphers Written In Thousands,Codex Lines Torn.Pages Missing.Keep Most My Secrets,Firmly Inside My Head.Plots.Plans.Hopes. // I'm so tired of people.No matter how powerful my Blood Curse -Fatigue eventually creeps in. \\ Lone Witch.
“Well, sir, there rest in your foolery.”
I do,Yet at times it circles through madness -Back to rationality.Playing the fool seems to get one further,Than any ethical progressive.So my foolishness -Is mockery -Fooling Fools Foolishly -To make points about Idiocracy,& my growing impatience for the stupid.Are all actors fools,Then?
“condemned to walk this lonely planet, to mourn all I Cherish”
Balance Beam Actors -Playing 'twixt reason & sense.Mourning Is The Art,Art Is Merely An Expression. My Ghosts: A Merry Sort,Following me aflock.Most loved to drink,Be merry. Warriors Seldom Get To Rest:The Burden Is Mere Survival,Our continued existence. But I'll take what I can get.
A Witch With No Name.
A Witch With No Name.Gamed By Design.Fine Print Details Omitted.Fitted For War:Par For "Old Lady" -Maybe As First.Worst As Last Name.Past Clan Mottos Back,Black Across Highlands,Panned To Green Isles In The West -Lest 3 Devil Brothers Originate.Paint Slavic Roots. Hidden Amongst Celts.
No fault.
So many people,On such a small rock.Moving like ants,Scurrying to & fro.I watch them with partially feigned,Interest?Sondering stupidity,As slack jawed stares remain on faces.You could never fathom me.Not to my full depth.No fault.Mine.Yours.Just fact.Reality.I see,Hear,It all.Ugh.
Bonus Time.
I Exist.Good Enough!Bonus Time.Queer & Disabled Demographics -Tell me:I was never supposed to break 30.Not alive.Bonus Time!Never thought I'd become 2nd,Ever,In anything.Much less History.Much less all time.Bonus Time!If life is a rigged game -Points never mattered to me anyways.
This Cryptid Hides In Plain Sight.
Purgatory -Cold This Time Of Year.Adrift Across The Cosmos,Boote's Void in isolated splendor!My true playground in the abyss.As if spacetime might collapse -at any momentStand Alone Complexes.Copycat Crimes.Urban Legends.This Cryptid Hides In Plain Sight.Doesn't Announce Presence.
Oh Honey.
Immediate Reaction, A Cackle.Hiss Laughter,Wheezing Red In Face,Nose pinched tight in harsh wrinkles,Like goblins.Boggart Of Decades Gone.Sensation Gorger.Indeed."What do you mean?Aren't you terrified?""Of Death?""Of Dying."Oh Honey.Beeswax.Venom.Dear.Our Romance Has Been Legendary.
Finite Distance.
Tomorrow.Find my light.Drive.Combustion Engine,Burning Fossilized Biomatter For Fuel.Low RPM Diesel,Or higher multiples in gas.Finite Distance.Could drive myself to the end of the world,Pickup Truck Right Off It.Nobody Would Even Notice.Invisible In A Snap.So Let This Dawn,Bring.
beat you // “Punch.”
Tear Me Apart, Then.Flay Me Skin To Flesh,Flesh To Bone.Hopefully I Die Before A Finale.If Hate Is Thy Hunger?Take It.Played Scapegoat,For Far Worse Evils,Scope Or Scale,Than You.Aura Bleeds.Drifting Dimensions,2nd On Through."The Infinite Deconstruction Of The Self."beat you//"Punch."
No Cauldrons Of Pasta, Proliferating Forever.
Listen Kid,Ain't no Italian,Like Ex-Godmothers.No Cauldrons Of Pasta,Proliferating Forever.But Pasta Is Cheap.It Burns As Calories.It'll Do.Besides,She was fucking Catholic.Sin follows them -Like my flock of ghosts,Drifts With Me.I'm a darker-blooded Witch.Know Most Pain.Trauma.Hurt.
In A Flutter; Of A Trillion Trillion Brown Construction Paper Cranes.
Who?Them?Hags Within A Coven?Limited In Domain?A Ploy At The Crone,To Ascend From Maiden?Shivering Teeth.A Cackling In A Sense.A Crackling In The Senses.A Crinkling In The Fences.Reality Twisted Up Like Origami,In A Flutter;Of A Trillion Trillion Brown Construction Paper Cranes.
Skittering Quickly; ‘Ere Not At All.
No.We Rally.Us -roken//attered.We solitary wildlings of the woods.Baskets in my arms.Grins upon my faces.All of them.Skittering Quickly;'Ere Not At All.Freeze.Silent Sans A Breath.Just A Cold Sucking Entropy,Upon The Soul.Poison.From touching your soul,Too deeply into mine.Curs-ed.
Forever Fourteen.
How must my ghosts feel?Aging beyond their deaths?Gathered flock -Blue Light Hazes.Golden Motes Of Light.Shall We Play Numbers?Any Kind You Like.Continue on,Ever-haggard grit.You,Forever Fourteen.Your smile as clear as day.You,Ballfield-low orange-pink sky,Beer in hand.Pass you;Soon.
Gaslighting Our Reality.
Adapt or die.Always simple math.Loved ones around us,Strangling us with control.Gaslighting Our Reality.Until we finally went mad,Perhaps.Resilience born from being killed -By ones "supposed" to protect you.Always A Slow Death.Dissociate.Across A Thousand Fractal Selves.Easy.Too Easy.
Ugly Words We Learned To Bear Brunts Of.
Back To Mad.Old Slurs.Ugly Words We Learned To Bear Brunts Of.Sloughing cruelty off chins -Like jabs or hooks.Kid fighting,Consisting of wrestling like hockey,More tousle than fight.Or enraged fisticuffs,Hitting until rage bleeds,From fists.Throwing chairs.Breaking teeth on coat hooks.
A Very Old Refrain:
A Very Old Refrain:"I AM ALWAYS,THE MOST TERRIFYING THING,SKITTERING IN ANY DARKNESS."No monster worse.No demon saved in salvation.Just HUNGER.Raw Entropy -Dragging at edges of reality.Hold my hand,So you know the skittering sounds,are meTelling ghost stories.Living as ghosts,Ourself.