Friday, March 16, 2018


Your community: a bleached reef, bog or troglobity? I drift in and doubt inane doubt inaned out and need rift between me and you "ew"-in me while you drown beneath your sea of faces. Lose my traces of you, trace my losses to you, only you, all the you every you only one yous, schooling vortices in your sea while I drift in and out of your nibbling inanity. I bite, abate your piranha synchronicity, I gnash a more sonorous monody than all your monotonous choral carnivory. I drift through your cloud, seven billion proud, minnows sharking the shallows while depths boom with echoes of my lunar pedigree. See me stride tides to stand grand upon land barren of minds too oceanic who panic at solid footing while looting the tide pools of spools of lycanthrope fur calling it wool. Drool your saprophyte hopes while your drifting waste chokes stone in effluvial folklore, fucklore your fish-song and folkload your pre-frontal notochorduncity. While you school in "communities" fishies, we are not the same species.

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