If your soul hurts, this is what you must do: Look out upon the spilt blood of the land, The necklace of the Earth, its
These parasitic insect pests, Crave sanctuary that is sanguine; As most unwelcome, picky guests, They flee the hues of gold and green. Lilac and
The sky lit up with careless ease, We left you as we fled the scene. A distant whisper in the trees, The sky lit up
Do not go into artificial light, Our lamps can bring an end to fragile life; Fly, fly away into the shrouded night. Your passion
There once were some pigs north of Java, Whose warts needed a balaclava. Whilst a new study found, That their numbers were down; Endangered without
I feel the powder beneath my feet; A sickening howl to the south, But I know that I am safe And so I dance with joy.
At the bottom of the ocean, In a mariner’s trench so deep That Hillary could have climbed it, We pray that we will find silence.
The white storks glide across the sky, Migrating south in times gone by; But now like Burroughs in his funk, These flying beasts are hooked
They carved your name into my arm, I hoped you’d be my lucky charm. My body shakes, I’m wracked with pain, I won’t ever do
Fast radio bursts come from outer space, We measure them and try to plot their trace; First thought to be some cataclysmic scar, Lost echoes