# 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.