Wigs of Slivers

Dear God	<<< "In February 2020, when Dr. Fauci and other public health officials discouraged mask usage and said it would have no effect upon the spread of COVID, we can presume this would have been the line held up by the virtuous Reality Czar. Anyone who advocated for mask usage would have been banned from social media. Any writers who published pro-mask pieces would be deplatformed–if not outright banned, their writing would at the very least be unavailable on social media, thereby making it inaccessible to nearly everyone."	What is Jeff Bezos promoting himself *to*?	Chagrined again how much I miss Trump breaking kayfabe and how much I hate Kayfabe Restoration, Kayfabe Restoration, my ex-team's slogan sucks	Shitlord woes	This is true: our wifi went sideways the same wire from the the same box on a wire strung between two telephone poles died, born in 1993 it lived an astonishing long life according to the Kind underpaid Shitlord, Inc tech said	I was asked by said tech did I want to get the new cable buried or hung through the trees she recommended burying cable, put in an order, got us running, days later, in the sleet and the rain Shitlord texts me, my cable is buried	I was sitting on a sofa exactly where the line enters the house, I didn't hear a thing, Earthgirl works from the big rooms nook looking out a window where the cable burier would have been burying cable, I didn't hear a sound, she didn't see a soul
Imperial museums				Punishing American Zeitgeist
The last years of progress				Avedon Carol's occasional links
What's in a species name?				Deneocolonize your syllabus
Saving Classics from whiteness			Chagrined I'm surprised I'm chagrined I'm surprised I'm surprised I'm chagrined	Dept of Overwrought Understatements	Screenshot poetics	walk out in the snow, a grass sidewalk is plowed, there's no sign of surgery	Your surveillance bill paid our shitlords provide excellent survellance service

WIFI IN A PRISON YARD

Hussain Ahmed

I tear up my heart into wigs of slivers

that I may remember how it all began.

there was an eclipse and I misplaced my eyes

to the blood in the moon,       a miscarriage of everything I owned.

I am sick of the nostalgia that comes with a stale memory

of what I should have seen,                before the darkness.

we find connections on the lines on our palms and they become entangled

into edible nests,       until a new inmate begins to cry.

this globe is full of darkness

and the only lit places            are burning.

the fire punctured the ozone that blankets the verdin in my rib cage.

My heart is a wick of card sliver,                             it spins in a pool of grief.