( via / via )

Cycling a green byway.

"You know what my book would smell like? It would smell like an old, well-worn, dog-eared paperback that's been sitting on a shelf in the basement for 30 years: dust and perdition, forgetfulness and spiderwebs." —@mariahaskins.com

The World of The Dark Crystal.

"a hankering to breathe tear gas"

broken tropes to track down
traction on this lacking
dawn grips with bone grinning
greebled despair's fairway
our sad hero heads out
a whole desert rolling
where a drone sky skinflints
my skiffle band handouts

exurb of the abscess
object-orient vorpal
-lice state making mousepad
for the much-scrolled cold case
coral bleaches—blueray
issue (bless their vicious
cardiac fist castoffs)—
i can't find my blinders

evergreen this grieving
grown fantasy dustup
old tunes that were ill-turned
at the time still chime some
& wars not now worried
wield shadowy lowdown
potholes where a pet fell
part word & its guerdon

"Tubular" live.