April

April is the cruelest month

The cruelest of the most cruel months month

Also National Load Heavy Cardstock Into Your Printer Month, Throw Your Dad’s Bandana in the Wash Month, and
Acknowledge Maternal Ass Duress Month

April is a mood

April is a mope

It’s the moo

It’s the fucking moo

Stirring mixing clutching breeding bleeding branches burning burning burning

Breeding and more bleeding and more warm dead branches more clutching and yeah: breeding

And drying

Don’t forget the drying

The drying tubers

And fucking lilacs

Fucking lilac snow and dead rain

And cruel mopeds

Fucking cruel mopeds neither living nor dead

How about a little drowning?

And bit of dull life in the drowning?

How about some Earth feeding on the drowning?

Some sweaty faces in the stony places and the shouting and the crying and the we who were living are now dying?

Or a fuckful forgetting with warm dead breeding fucking us dry in the ugly lilac snow?

And Death undoing?

Death — doing and undoing with cruel unstoppered unguents and strange  synthetic cruelty perfumes troubled confused and drowning in odours drowning fattening and flung into the dancery burning green and orange foaming fomenting more Earth and more roots and jesus h. christ more desire and lilacs and snow and dead rain

Don’t forget the dead fucking rain

And all of us breeding the fucking roots keeping us up with dead feelings and life stirring the withered stumps the chuckles canals and gashouses the whores morons and idiots a welcome indifference to whining mandolins fucking my humble beneficent spiders the lean solicitors everything fucking the life out of everything just fuckest me the fuck out hurry up please its time