Prayer for a Friend Lost to QAnon your rage, it reverberates beyond what the human ear, the living earth herself can safely process, or mend. you must let your own ears find again even the softest chord resounding the planetary heartbeat – 7.83 hertz. let these words stifle the shouts of: save the (fictional) children
Digital Revenge The passwords of my Bank accounts shall get buried with me & no skeletons will remain. My self-centered children might guess the names of my dream girl (Deepika Padukone) & childhood crush (Martina Hingis) but will never be able to know about my special character. They shall keep sending pleas to heaven but
The ladder The head mason of the demolition squad shouted the labours to look for the bamboo ladder a tall one about 10 feet The sprawling centuries old mansion needed dozens of ladders but the team had been managing with only one which went missing The workers felled some casuarinas and made a make shift
An Instance Of Karma It was a hot August night. Jill was working hard at the local convenience store, and her husband, Jarvis, was working hard also—busily digging her grave in the back yard. He just knew she had been cheating on him. Not that he had any proof. It was the way she smiled
Here in February’s grey I bleed away, Red run into the snow. So many years from home I, here, a fugitive A captive too. The home I had gone away This one not mine, not quite. The whisky jack mocks me The “caw caw” and my soul crawls Into the frozen ground. I will die
MY SWAMP TIME I was barely surviving in Louisiana, unpleasantly and unsuited, a land as shifty, unstable, as a drunken father, where no frog, no gator, ever took a vow of silence on a long hot night, where I couldn’t step outside my door without some critter gnawing on my flesh, and all in the
A Descriptive Linguistics of Isolation Verbs of motion will be the first to go—well, not go which has long gone the way of disappearing into idiom. No, we will lose the careful ones: disembark, sojourn, trek, take leave. Perhaps, even, arrive. There will come a day when we will believe all movement is rooted into
though he had known every quantity of life: its short repose, its indefinite strike; though he had knowledge of the indifferent span of evening and daylight and the repetitious metaphysic of sound and fury; though life had been every superstitious quality of sensate being, he, with indifference, collected the manifold days into folded gestures and
Exodus bound Senegambia down rivers of dignity leaking From Fouta Djallon out of Banjul’s mouth sailing listing creaking Culture history music art left in the scupper’s wash Bodies delivered with flaming heart all history the cost Commerce of thralls conscripted fed on diets of fear Future beyond unscripted and anywhere but here
