It is possible that you have considered what kind of monster ILK would be if it were, in fact, a monster. Cthulu or Kraken. Chimera or Godzilla. Siren or Selkie.
There is Only This One Season
Galileo was the first to ask Whose brain.
I can teach you
about lighter fluid, but
it’s making my brain delirious.
I resent the Internet for telling me
that I am not a plant.
Who do I give this hyper anxiety to?
I dream sporadically of reincarnation.
I wet myself thinking
about the possibility.
In the plural space, machinery is
taught to mimic how a skeleton unbuckles.
An animal dismantles softly,
each taxonomy undoes its seamless structure.
A small impression steams
shirtless and run through with heroin.
I can usually be found
laughing alone in my apartment.
I’ll need it in the original German.
Hopeful for madness,
cover your head with your hands.
What happens if I have compassion on
who we’re fighting?
I snitch on myself in confession,
one night, I follow myself,
who’s fallen from her aircraft
like the classical music station
fucked into cheap thunder by static.
Anna wanted a hospital.
Wanted a handgun and a
shooting range, the target
to be a grey wolf turning blue.
No. I don’t care anymore,
my untrained sympathetic vibrations
a spear in the pool.
Then I would really start to roar.