well, then there’s that:
Seven years in shards on the tangled bedspread
(Nigh on four more in the works)
Plagues in droves, karmic backlash.
Life in your limelight,
a pinprick visible six feet under,
toasted by the crumbs,
the sun-scraps. Sick symbiosis,
interstate highways riddle your thighs,
and I stupidly traced them. Then, there,
my dappled skullcap the apple of your eye,
fresh as a lamb (and its inevitable subtext)
Milky white and mewling to the slaughter.
Great sunspot, Asiatic bear,
one who lumbers, retract!
I consult cartomancy:
What colluded curse coincides
when our regal planets align?
Sunflares, every one of them!