research outpost dissonance no.4

distorted outpost transmissions coming in… malignant sound-forms moaning through a white-noise-side-chain frenzy… grim rattlings within the submerged silos, whisperings along silent bunker corridors… piss and blood congeal in the outpost gutters…emergency protocol manual pages unbound and burning…

upon the stale static air drift thick psychotropic dream-states… dust-storms lash the surface, tempestuous skies; cable-cracklings of the radio towers… idiot hands of the radioactive boys grapple at the core melt reality… dead eyes staring into the pit… fever dream in the microbial-virus factory… razor-blade girls slice product in the fluorescent night…

despair-surrender, terror superb… from isolated outposts come dissonant scream oscillations… discarded tools… decoded damaged DNA… the rusting blown-out guts of morbid-industry… ghosts talking in tongues over the portable field-sets… fear of outside, fear within… thunderstorms loom above the drained lake as the darkness debases; devours…

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desert sand serenades in blown-out monochrome no.5

sinking chemical sunlight serenades the blood-thirsty earth… campfire ceremonies, feral incantations; lovers intertwined as the building darkness begins to serenade the stars that will never come… dry lake, dirt road, hosed in petrochemicals… pump-jacks dead in the psychedelic dawn…

children draw demons in the thick desert dusk… tender broken-hearts bleed over cactus thorns… a black bull lashed to the back of a flat-bed, burial ground dreams spilling out over sorrowed brows… deep in the saturated image field, fathers grieve in rituals of loss and regret… the earth grows silent betwixt shadow and flame…

desert sand serenades in blown-out monochrome… fire temples half-submerged in the rolling dunes… black snakes etch verse across the glinting vistas… droning distant winds murmur echoes of lost moments in the field, the night undulating and coercing the beckoning… we fall to our knees and beg to forget, lovers yearning to die, the earth slowly forgetting her name…

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spinal landscapes no.5

silhouetted cranes looming from the collapsed bridge view… sat low and staring long into the spinal landscape, watching ash-clouds paint the morning light… wild dogs prowl beyond the perimeter, soothing raindrops fall from chemical skies… street-corner apparitions crawl along the wounded blocks…

near the silent factory float the broken choking voices, trailing along lines of distressed blast-walls leading to the sound of the film-reels flickering… she motions towards the decay and mops the debris of her skin, as her feet trace a path betwixt the broken bones and shattered glass of the drained lake…

desert sands and the gasoline trail wadi immolation sequences… sun-baked grains assimilate petrified carcasses of bomber fleets, left to decay amidst the eternal radiation steppe; screaming out their anguish to the nuclear horizon… stench of rotting cattle, concentrated in camps lining the scorched highway…

she hears a tortured howl between campfire shadows, throat parasites talking in tongues… head of centipede, marks of vaccination… starvation and hopelessness across the dissonance fields… wading waist-deep out into the poisonous ichor, screaming out their anguishes at the misspent human choices…

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