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# gas stove


withering gossamer strands

    twitching, dessicated cobs


the trees reach out with skeleton hands

rats gone to nest


it passes by so quickly


cyclic autotorment


the world exhales a little hotter this century

the cold's got melt in its cracks

sparks moldering in the underbrush


grim dun dust clotting on the concrete

soot for snow

muck in our blood


outside it's cold


my brother walked up the hill and detonated

my sister swam down the crick and got the bends


i lie here unflagellated

    dreaming of pinpricks


spirits are liars

wick them away


a girl walks into her old home

back at the start


it's the same

but for a thin layer of dust

and the scent of rot


lichen and graffiti sprouting from a statue's feet


disintegration really chilled him out


feel your nerves like phone lines in your skin

going dead.