Every day the path was smaller, more
obscured.
With a light gesture. Two a day, 6 hours.
Half a word to cover the moist mouth. the most mouth.
And, at night, this was an SOS|flashlight|hard-cranked battery,
weathered radio in the country. every country.
my brother gave me a birthday
of the slow-moving apocalypse -it's still going-
RIP currents death: malaria in the US, where I left materiality
ozone elevation, wildfires make smoke+fire, smog where i am
an infection-call OSHA-on parks&rec. Are we going to trip?
Something silken in a state of sick and tired , trolling cities , and critique the space you've invited me in and welcomed me into , and i spit on your lifestyle because i am a serious artist. will you keep inviting? as long as i satisfy all contracts in a state of astute and cute , cosplay a child of the earth and fatherly.
(june-july 2023)
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