Variations On Supernovae, No. 1

Over the hills, then under, time is a miserable mirage of balloons & tea parties like a great desert deserter from bands of winter warriors proclaiming victory over the catacombs of Paris (paupers, or once prodigal sons) when all that survives under the quiet cobblestone are belladonna seedlings peaceful as unfulfilled wishes carried by skeletal supernovae

Have you forgotten those springtime visions? Foxes are what rabbits become grow into, to fit to survive post-apocalyptic societies, to never desert squalling trenches over cruel blizzards, just as an infant seeks out a hearth

by Willow Kang

an eye for an eye so pluck out that apple iris of yours & return it to Jörmungandr’s body who gave you your savagery, drew out your bloodstained need for opulence after all, you were born upon a cornucopia’s coffin, spared from its teeth bared at/for the heavens

You must know of my carnal desire for the full moon: How it curves over the bedsheets surreptitiously, through a secret night; take it out, breath by breath prying into tranquility, prying out entrails, still warm from a waning heart