poem: atonement is the name of a book

I can feel the surge inside me -- water coming up from the underneath; people sneering, poland subdued-- I would wait for my lover at the window, in a green dress, but how can I if I cannot manage a morning routine? -- depressionis a modern invention, generation z does notneed our grandmothers' ecstasy, we… Continue reading poem: atonement is the name of a book

poem: your reflection in the black phone screen

i wish i was instagram aestheticmulti-block primary color. advertise around my face: kpop album, mini EPfive plastic boys and finger heartssold last yearfor five million dollars. i wish i was happy the girlhanging by her neck in a fridge future countries ironically safer, if you find the rightangle the filter she looksalmost dead maybe foreignbig… Continue reading poem: your reflection in the black phone screen

poem: self-awareness is possibly just narcissism

hey soul someone,i fell out of your eyes. we disagreeon politics, religion; you are tooexcited to see me. guess whatall my characters, soul-mates,fake/college/friendsare still bitches: whinyand not really depressed. it's justdespair, i'm justdespair-ed. the internethowever beats on,an eternal shared heart.what do we have after post-modernism? not much;good-fucking-bye to human progress. and youwatched me walkaway, the… Continue reading poem: self-awareness is possibly just narcissism

poem: the kids from yesterday

we are people waiting in the sunlight, going after stimulus after stimulus after stimulus. we are disenchanted: girls sitting, stitching embroidery into pants— boys making suits from torn-off skins, the flesh still wet and rotting. we are taken from text and retold as myth: a New Generation, all jazzed all pixelated, reliving 2003 like we… Continue reading poem: the kids from yesterday