i built gates for the dungeon
in my neighbor’s house, on odd afternoons last summer. Proteolipids slink thru membranes demarcating the sky and us, rain seems to be all that’s keeping civilization afloat, Moneyball lurks sweetly in the blue lit background, nostalgia bomb reverse-boofed out the chute. It gets more and more
hard, considering you
in my lap, legs bonking, fellow fawn milk fed
thru and thru, adulthood gets memorialized
via flesh, collagen droop staved
off by hard spells, organs read
by fingertip explain you knew
that that character was gonna come back
eventually, because you never saw them die
for naught but a fickle key. We took up weapons and thanks
to 100+ hours of tactical role playing
games, we’d learned how to bring death, that’s where
this ends, you know that right? Leaves mark the spreading
rings, rare hand dug gems embedded tweely
in the warm red clay, a failure of bread’s
announced with youthful vigor, tits swollen
thanks to the forever chemicals in water
our bodies won’t weed out. Alex Trebek narrating a castle
tour thanks to the boy who earth talk to, I am the dowry
you've wanted to upend, dox the money
lenders from the temple and replace them in time
for our wedding, take off the purity rings, witness
your face soaked in moiré
patterns, a photograph of a tv
oscillating itself out of relevance, remjet’s
put on film to prevent
halation, an artifact recouping
the scuppernong's we grew
day beyond day. There is a a star that appears
every 70 years and I’m going to catch you, I tell it, I see you
brandishing the downfall of my country, you're tacky
and I love you. In the end
I walked through the tall graces, oops
I mean grasses,
into a tarn, the glaciers’
carved gargoyles, and washed
myself free of original sin, as clean
as promised, still
wearing black for the anonymity
even after the joke's over.
i built gates for the dungeon
in my neighbor’s house, on odd afternoons last summer. Proteolipids slink thru membranes demarcating the sky and us, rain seems to be all that’s keeping civilization afloat, Moneyball lurks sweetly in the blue lit background, nostalgia bomb reverse-boofed out the chute. It gets more and more hard, considering you in my lap, legs bonking, fellow fawn milk fed thru and thru, adulthood gets memorialized via flesh, collagen droop staved off by hard spells, organs read by fingertip explain you knew that that character was gonna come back eventually, because you never saw them die
for naught but a fickle key. We took up weapons and thanks to 100+ hours of tactical role playing games, we’d learned how to bring death, that’s where this ends, you know that right? Leaves mark the spreading rings, rare hand dug gems embedded tweely in the warm red clay, a failure of bread’s announced with youthful vigor, tits swollen thanks to the forever chemicals in water
our bodies won’t weed out. Alex Trebek narrating a castle tour thanks to the boy who earth talk to, I am the dowry you've wanted to upend, dox the money lenders from the temple and replace them in time for our wedding, take off the purity rings, witness your face soaked in moiré patterns, a photograph of a tv oscillating itself out of relevance, remjet’s put on film to prevent halation, an artifact recouping the scuppernong's we grew day beyond day. There is a a star that appears every 70 years and I’m going to catch you, I tell it, I see you brandishing the downfall of my country, you're tacky and I love you. In the end
I walked through the tall graces, oops I mean grasses, into a tarn, the glaciers’ carved gargoyles, and washed myself free of original sin, as clean as promised, still wearing black for the anonymity even after the joke's over.
by Nolan Allan
@nolanallan
@bloodmerdiancellectuals
