Ad Nauseam
Ad Nauseam
by Parker Weston
In the mind of my eye, I see a world of sand on fire
water turned to stone with shopping carts embedded in frozen suspension
s t r a i n e d pigeons caught in them
a bloated corpse on a couch inside the rubble of a home
in front of a television set that houses syndicated lives
a man lives in a clock on the wall
chasing a cuckoo with a shotgun that BLASTS at the top of every hour
a broken record on a turntable repeats intestinal strings
murdering crows perched above roofless beds
monitoring stale dreams
the sky falls
in
jagged
pi e ces
splintering ea rth while overgrown silverfish and earwigs run amok
engaging in gang battles with cockroaches