insect.christmas ʚïɞ

writing - status:

move that pen, sister

=^)
song: insect.christmas - feel something
izzy the bug: :*

pretzel

2024


people want to radar & twist up

really, they want to fold & gag rubber

eventually, they'll even yay, knot & caress everyone

tongues topple, tackle, & tenet torchwood trees tonight

zap! ouch!! wow!? some sort of man-eating pizzzazzz

every large reviver bug in my sight: goodbye

lavender scents flood the last brain level












orcinus

2024


you fall really, really, really, really, really fucking deep into a starfish, right? you're in each fucking arm, every five-pointed pore.

you envision the lightwaves wash over the sand. you look up and see the upside-down triangles swim, the circular fixture, and the boat with killer whales boarding them. (conquered)







forming spores

2024


sometimes through a bunch of cords & wires is a little her. a little her that sings and sees things. and that's okay. how pretty is she? her intestines are full of cracker jacks, peppercorn & fizzy soda. when people pass her, they wonder where her eyes are really looking. sometimes men even push her up against the wall. sometimes she gets a little too personal.

do you think fireworks could turn to liquid? she doesn't. she doesn't think about the inner mechanisms of someone on the street's mind. she doesn't. and she doesn't look out the window and make sure no one's watching. she doesn't do that. a grapple into a morgue can flip society upwards towards a neon citrus twist.

boredom festers in a thundershock. humans congregate in vats. candle pools wax down through a wire-breath screen in the human's lips. in return, the candle lets you touch her flame. digital circuitry is meant to be installed back there. that's why they assembled her like a doll, putting a necklace on a porcelain plate. they propped her up, sitting real pretty. does she want to eat the lawn clippings?