#june20

Rear Admiral Joel T. Boone, on inspection trip of Southern Illinois and Indiana mines, watches loading of coal into shuttle cars by conveyor belt. Consolidated Coal Company, Lake Creek Mine, Johnson City, Williamson County, Illinois.

Record Group 245: Records of the Solid Fuels Administration for WarSeries: Photographs of the Medical Survey of the Bituminous Coal Industry 

Who brought misfortune - disguised as a decorative Owl into the house. Who, patterned and bedded in their nightgown, caused torture before dawn rose. Who unearthed the gnawing mouse, strewn; whose innards lay bare the truth. Who disregarded the violent augury, foolishly put trouble on a shelf like a withered flower – curious to look at the pale colour, fermenting eye. Aboard the mirror, thin with grotesqueness, an influential face. Then by storm, taken for a cantillating mouth, tore life severely in halves.

Whose gift is deficient, Sephora.

Whose thorn is sharpest.

Boron-trioxide' Jesus

tries not to see a coldblooded iguana’s beauty

spread betting on the sofa beneath him with Callipered

legs swinging behind each ear,

butthole screaming to be AUDACIOUS.

Jesus wanted scum to make himself clean,

drunk a monkey shoulder of scotch,

sunk a ton of black-beauties.

.

Synthetic blonde, he took on a disguise

two narratives of skin,

spontaneous & iridescent.

Time to ignore the evanescence he make-believes.

.

Just be gentle, whispers the iguana like he worries

about Satan.

I am being gentle, ffs! Thought Boron-trioxide' Jesus,

he gave a sudden jerk of his head.

Garbled with emotion his voice is loud,

I just don't want to touch it.

.

The golden lights of a fairground twister

or, maybe transverse fracture held together by

cumbersome looking callipers?

- try seeing the ankle not the metal brace,

the injured iguana advises not moving his lips.

YOU don’t matter.

Must be a telepath here! Because Jesus

just wondered that very thing.

.

Jesus loves a trier, Jesus knows here,

that the Iguana's incredible face is the trade-off,

it pays the debt more sufficiently than

landing yourself on a hill of Juniper

supposing a hill of Juniper is what you wish for,

or conversely. . . it's a black chador wound round a body

dead by 36.

There's little to no fucking difference.

.

Boron-trioxide' Jesus wraps-it-up all amorphous

with his jubilant liquid dribbling from Iggy's mouth.

Boron-trioxide' Jesus is gettin' his confidence back

Flips-Iggy-over, slaps those fucking butt-cheeks

now they're pink as a pink Salamander's tail.

In our hands notebooks come as good as broken - seven years misfortune apiece.

Judgement pressed between pages.

[The full] punishment for a traitor is one-quarter of an ounce of gold, three-quarters heave of a swirling sea.

A gilded lily.

The upward movement of my arms . . .

downward motion of fury.

Every past, present and potential caught by a trick of light,

casually snuffed out.

A notebook is the looking glass where I see myself

Jonah on Omegle | June 20, 2020