On the Allure of the Sun

staring at the brick – patiently waiting for the moment it enters my skull- a fucking cinder block going 300 mph
no questions, no time for questions
but somehow im waiting
and i can feel the absence of my head
even as nothing has changed

somehow you know the feeling after you have eaten the vole before you have eaten it
how is it going to affect your human digestive system, a raw vole
it remains a mystery,
but somehow you know exactly what that’s going to feel like,
in the abyss of your body
the part that’s not there, but has just as much feeling as the inside of your toes

raw inspiration in the form of a clawing headache– a vole climbing out of the wreckage of a human skull ravaged by a cinder block traveling at speeds uncharacteristic for construction materials

a story with no end: inspiration is,
a one night stand
climax but no shoulder to latch onto
full of unintentional emotion.

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