photo_camera by Will Cornfield
The world is a hostile thing
but what would you be like
if billions of parasites lived
and bred on you—
in you.
We had a dog
died that way, the worms inside
and on top of her skin, I saw
the birth of a billion flies, white
and eyeless.
We are born faster than we die.
Gaia—
why are you listless?
Where is your revenge?
God—
wake Noah
we need a flood of
bleach, whatever hurts
I’m sorry I am sorry
I am so sorry I am
so
so sorry