Secondhand Heavens
Matthew Burnside
There are caves here, too: little subterranean veins washed in lamplight. It’s a nice place to get lost & stay lost. Starlight falls through cracks like spiders burning & nothing hurts like it once did.
There are caves here, too: little subterranean veins washed in lamplight. It’s a nice place to get lost & stay lost. Starlight falls through cracks like spiders burning & nothing hurts like it once did.
My favorite apocalypse
happens halfway through
as in, everything comes down
and you’ve got to keep going
After he left, everything became slanted. The towns the cities, the forests the valleys. The entire earth diagonal.
He never went to school or changed clothes because he was too busy mastering Atari, weighed down by secret histories no book could ever contain.
the worship / of a songbird / laced into its baby blue / bonnet / of sky // the dead dog / copy-pasted / its same small crooked paws / around this corner / and
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