His torso entangled

unsure of its ends.

And there, Atlas

Heavenly heaving

again and again.

Deep bronze bodies smelted by Hephaestus

His, their sarcic art

Sheeted furnace Aristophanes fulfilling.




He stands on the curb

Alongside another

A brother

Of sorts.

Someone approaches, a brother of Other.

“Fuck that shit, bitch, get the fuck off my block!”

Glock cocked a god’s knuckle cracks

Saltpeter theogony, flesh behind

Spattering brother’s blood before

Pollocking the pavement




Something within him

“Touch it”, it tells

He listens

Feeling the severed ligaments

They’re… wet

He keels.

He expels,

Pollocking the pavement

Sarcic art.


by Connor Fieweger


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