Status Updates From Death by Sex Machine

Oh god, I gasped over and over
as we stumbled through the snow back to the car,
me and my burning legs.
Now that’s my kind of intimacy—
faceless, salty,
no wondering how my jokes are going over ,
just running straight toward warmth
as my skin bursts open in shock.

remember/ all humans/ are cyborgs/ all cyborgs/ are sharp shards of sky/ wrapped in meat/ be delicate/ as you approach this subject/ remember/ they love their blood/ even as they retch/ at the smell of it

You can’t buy a thunderstorm. Nor should you bring one back
from the dead. But I threw open the gates.
I invited them in. I said, help yourselves. Then watched
as they went room to room, taking, emptying
the shelves, sucking marrow from the bones,
and overhead, the sky filled with rain.

Sometimes/ when the sidewalk opens my knee / I think / please / please let me remember this

can't finish this in one seating because I don't need the entire library to glare at me and kick me out when I inevitably scream after finishing this!