song of the severed narwhal no.1

my eluding lungs, sunken lost, fill full of martyred sonnets, deep within the onyx abyss of forgotten waters, where i whisper songs from the haunted bowls of a world bound by darkness…

i am the narwhal headed awe of god is carnage. prowling, starving in onslaught from swamps to seas, deep seated in blood harvest…

beaching only to feed on the meanings cold carcass… clawing out its organs, to reach its beating heart flawless. because stomaching its power keeps me eating myself unconscious…

so nauseous at the touch. i lust over drums in solace. while forever clinging to my tongues unburied coffin…

– mildew

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fever dreams at the detection facility no.3

torrential chemical rain falling from a neon cloud-field sky… black lung howling through the valves… poisonous centipedes crawling across the consoles, writhing inside the switch-boards… fever dreams at the detection facility, cold sweats, malnutrition and radiation sickness…  absolute silence in the seconds before the blast-wave…

intermittent static, morse-tapping and cut-up voice-tracks coming over the field sets… batteries bleeding acid out over dusty concrete floors… oil pools under decommissioned patrol vehicles.,. hissing ghost voices in the wires talking of fallout sex agonies and nausea dreams within the fog of war turmoil… gas mask baptisms…

shivering limbs under the fluorescent lights, white-noise-side-chain dissonance in the headsets… cold stares into the field, faint shadows in the half-light; radioactive dust spiralling around the reinforced concrete bunker walls… walking out into the nothing-field, dead insect eyes reflecting the new desert sun, in the exact moment of the flash…

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fever dreams at the detection facility no.2

a gathering storm coming in, radioactive dust spiralling around the reinforced concrete bunker walls… low frequency modulation across the radar-field, white-noise-side-chain dissonance through the valves… cold-sweats and shivering limbs under the fluorescent lights; before flickering instrument panels…  poisonous centipedes crawl across the consoles…

filtered drones in the long distance and a looped image track of rain falling on the corrugated iron awning roof of an abandoned farmhouse; seconds before the blast-wave hits… an endless rattling and scratching within the air ducts… cold stares into the field… frozen moments captured on magnetic tape, rotting in the sunken archives… fever dreams from the detection facility…

intermittent static, morse-tapping and cut-up voice-tracks coming over the portable units… faint shadows in the half-light… the wind whipping across the compound; the hammering of a worn shutter breaking free of its fastenings… distorted calculations, lost reels, invalid results; corrupt data… dead insect eyes reflect the twin desert suns, in the exact moment of the flash…

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geometry of a mid-town intersection no.3

sepia image tracks bleeding out across a blast-wall frame… white-noise and static over the field radio… impossible hymns in diseased throats echoing out along shattered glass corridors, down polluted streets; climbing above tower-blocks looming over the slowly decaying industrial district… a match-head ignites at one thousand frames per second…

dismal gloom, and a hazy chemical sky hanging thick above the geometry of a mid-town intersection… a drone camera circles the scene, detailing the unfolding complexities… merciless falsehoods of the tabloid news press spilling over into a storm-drain… a series of blurry 35mm shots blown-up across a bombed-out mall; misery and starvation…

vagaries of the street-corner architecture, complex measurements amidst the fractured landscape snap-shot. slow polaroid exposures framing burnt-out bodegas and cop cars… grid networks undulating, intertwining; steadily burning across the map. we set up camp on the roof of an abandoned police precinct overlooking an empty parking lot…

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