misery tourism

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ecause they’re given to impulse and to dilly dally they were angry and starving and like cracked out procrastinating the chow down.

Stitched together by the Arachne’s
web, we stack the loom.

mothers love their babies
it’s just what mothers do

I lord over an ant hill, standing as solid and planted as an eighty-foot marble statue of God himself.

polyethylene clothing with perforated seams
latch on tight, an uninvited straitjacket

“You’re in for it, son,” they told me.

She was Carole Bouquet and she
Was Angela Molina

Let me be real, let me be succinct.

I love Space
In my memory, yes
I’ve felt it, the joy

The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.