20 November 2021
12 January 2023
p0sthuman: the evening before p.127
bob, dart
play your clavier close
to my ear
spit in the funnel
squeeze it night
spray grace
and oracular
force
churn milk then
fan your yawns
into a child
who wipes her mouth
with the back of her hand
the light from the nearest star
burns her brow
as she blinks in
your accessible smoke