mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

  • Mood:
  • Music:

Y as in capital Y autopsy scar Y.

all those stovepipe looking letters. last night tore through me like a weasel in a hen house- hungry & with small teeth. left me with wasteland dreams, of empty factories with furnaces long cold. places where the only things that moved were the shadows when they flickered. whole seas of broken bottles of liquor. then there were the dark shapes   in the sky   blotting out the clouds; indistinct silhouttes that brought on unreasoning terror. bleak little things like the heirlooms of some long dead race of titans.

& of course i'm cut down the middle, stuffed with some kind of drywall insulation.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 4 comments