Wasteland dispatches

Deep breaths
She’s got me combing through consciousness like a psychonaut
FUCK THIS!
As she throws Christmas lights in the snow
the holiday season can fuck off early this year
Lady on a Wire never misses?
But she sure has fallen
among the awkward years of dumpster fires
becoming more than just another voice from the fire
lady chaos herself with a new set of rules and jazzy elemental reconfiguration
a heart aflame
done up in ink
right in the center
entranced by the nigh infinite potential of the void
is it any wonder
why the wasteland
can be
such a beautiful thing?
electromagnetic currents coursing through long distance keystrokes and digital glances
we’re interactive postcards from the edge
delivered by murders of crows
near the borders of concrete forests
stark truths
the only message
which matters
nobody gets out alive
just recycled
don’t be complicit in gaslit sixth extinction hijinks
it’s all imploding
where 60 carries 20
and the remainder
sits in towers high above
with fat cat cigars and mispriced wine
tainted
gypsy spit curses
the only haven you’ll ever find
viewed from a blue origin
where externals and internals crisscross patterns of stars upon pulsating flesh bodies
and I’ll tell you this
when you grasp a scapegoat Capricorn by the horns
you get the fucking horns