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



pi e ces

splintering ea rth while overgrown silverfish and earwigs run amok

engaging in gang battles with cockroaches

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