
#extradirty
Peter Solarz
Sade Olutola

blake kathryn
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
i don't do bad sauce passes

Andulka

Origami Around
๐ชผ
we're not kids anymore.

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kaledo Art

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will byers stan first human second

Kiana Khansmith
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@stolenhead

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ruined immaculate oh how i am divided and splayed, a fawn for leather this childish flesh spoiled with godfear darkening and growing tender already under the labor of carrion beetles anoxia, a birth as blue as the eggshell sky that shivers with the static of a held breath a hurricane whispering down from heaven, this brand new life
bedbound at the regularly scheduled interval. my blood a hornet swarm. my heart, a sparrow, starving. shimmering mirage my spine hardly touches the mattress. how hard it is to be still, to feel this body aging, this siphoning of stolen hours. you dream with open eyes, a warden rapt by the evidentiary splatter of my sanguine notions. unclean. here i am when your sleep covets the fever of my starsick body how needful, your unconsciousness. not my doe-eyed dark shot through with waltzing geometry. dogs howling in my good ear. my name over and over. over and over, i'm falling through the ceiling, conspiring with an attic full of ghosts.
when i was little, i thought the sun made the cicadas' sound. i tell you so. you say I'm still little. handle me like to prove it. like a knick knack you've collected. like a pale, flaccid thing suspended in formaldehyde. you hold me to the light to a chorus of 'is it real.' once, i might have been. anyway, you say I'm still little and pull me into your orbit. cheek mashed against the star on your chest, i wonder if you heard what i said about it. i thought the sun sang to me in those long dead canine days of june. you say I'm still little. you don't know how true it is.
Kerosene burn claws my throat slides warm into my guts, like you, bottom shelf vodka disciple, slick. Amber and mercury haloes shine through chlorined corneas, your silver cheek, an eclipse. The world spins away, dark behind it, a lunatic pirouette to idiot lyrics, carbonic whispers, like fingers in my hair, dragging me under.
under the faded inked tides of your skin under wildfire irises a backseat death. parking lot afterlife we a couple bottle smashing poltergeists

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Whereโs your head at? Greg Dunn
calvaria cresting glooming waters the moon, i. sleepwalk under here in this stillborn hour i flood the heavens between us with heatlightning dreams and psalms carried on the serpenting currents of my tongues
Encountering another place
Lifelike shapes rose on mauve tails
Light and freightless as a barren babyless
Or a carriage to which Dick Turpin offered bag emptying terms
Smooth surfaces, no nails
Without rivet, marks of making, makerโs marks
These arks, with neโry a buffering moment
Start out across promiscuous stars
Through mysterious bores open like a starvingโs mouth
Food-promised starlings set out.
In hopes of carving out new straits, new ways
To traverse a soundless maze some ancient race
Or their wiser maker, hath made
Stars that are eggs
Some wire-pregnant soarer laid.
Like nodes lanterning their own arrival
I waited a while and watched them glide guileful
As they eighted upon my rite-baited nightskyย
Pale stones skimmed masterly most across sable oceans
Some stars barded in bard-heart flame
Others pale and artful like fate-making bone
Puzzling glyphs they left which in order to read a lift was needed.
Weak as a reed, weak
Weed-reeking weeks spent in dreamseeking cryosleep.
dreamed the sky was full of gar and alligators. they sang to me in a nonsense language. sun filmed green with algea. i sat on top of the old courthouse, a silver dome, smoking. a white trash deity. woke with my fingers to my lips.

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gearing down to drown the motor as it tows swamp sailor flailing, i am, locked in land and earth leaning as the chariot swings low
sun struck, this desert kiss kills me slow boatman's legs leave me a stranded man in sacred flight a secret heaven only knows
Here, I am, the wind, no savior, only blows Earth and sky unending, a savage stranger's plan desperate, dirt clinging as his chariot swings low
dessicated, I am, green-gilled roadkill for the crows bury all but my screaming head in the sand in shifting flight an ending that heaven only knows
force fed, I am, choking on all this reaper sows and so marked for stealing and off-handed guillotined between spokes as his chariot swings low
decaying, I am, feuling now this star shot dynamo indicted sans arraignment burned and branded sold to silent pilots that heaven only knows slotted in the chamber as his chariot swings low
curdled longing slips blackened fingers into my pauses my empty pockets pries at the closet door laughs with cloistered corpses dogs my oldest bones
celestial body always above me fallen affections vestigial love i'm fucking up i'm fucking up forever trailing stricken and dumb forever chasing vaporous touch grazing the tether failure in the clutch
this is more or less what lights look like for me. nice to look at, terrible for night driving.
your hands bladed with agony your sawtoothed need scrape me clean sinless skinless soul to keep after the ruin after the bleeding i am new a shining ruby

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each morning a miscarriage a larval iteration of flesh brainless and writhing eyeless with hunger dancing to the locust hum lodged in the throat of this flourishing starvation a year long scream a desert night-weeping for the sun every dawn a shard of glass
look at im. isn't he precious? he would step over my dead body for a taste of yogurt.