Meaningless Cycles in a Vicious Glass Prison: Songs of Death and Love

Description

We Live.

We Die.

About a week later, we get back up and start tearing the flesh of of whoever is most convenient to fill the emptiness in our bacteria-bloated corpses that is most definitely not a metaphor of our desperate search for connection in this hopeless slog of repetitive day to day existence.

Sometimes, there’s sex and/or blood.

Contains “Death, The Whore” which placed 2nd in the Best Poem category of the 2020 Annual Critters Readers’ Poll.