the destroyer > text > Brooke Ellsworth



It’s Monday so it’s dead except for two tan people, I named my yacht Absofuckinglutely. I’m eating garnish and can be encased in the double, which is of pleasure. Hey you I estrange in a deadness, which is of necessity. I turn around to nothing, to the heroin self-evidence. I am on fire with myself. Touch my dick, touch the ghost of my dick. I advise the newsfeed

                                                                   With the razed mountain of ash
                                                                   And the Gatsby
                                                                   That was razed
                                                                   Along with it
                                                                   Skinny bitches
                                                                   From which their source
                                                                   Is themselves
                                                                   Found a screw
                                                                   In their black beans
                                                                   A screw
                                                                   Like hand me the screwdriver
                                                                   Up in Alaska
                                                                   Everybody works for Aramark
                                                                   So this is common
                                                                   One of the bartenders
                                                                   Tells me
                                                                   He loves
                                                                   He’s been a
                                                                   What was
                                                                   Years later I saw
                                                                   His profile
                                                                   Him and
                                                                   Girl holding a gun
                                                                   On a boat
                                                                   I enter the heart
                                                                   I am


                                                                   Grabbed the tree and grabbed the tree’s
                                                                   I’m not naked this time
                                                                   to stuff the idea
                                                                   I am saying / here is the park
                                                                   circulating and blue

                                                                   Today feels so real
                                                                   Memorial Day is the most real day

                                                                   I’ve been fantasizing about my hands
                                                                   dipped into the ocean of my childhood
                                                                   a symbolic gloss of performance
                                                                   I am not sorry

                                                                   The world is alive

                                                                   with what did I quiver with failure

                                                                   The world is alive with appetite

                                                                   seen thru the reddening tide
                                                                   and the under-fiction
                                                                   What birds don’t eat
                                                                   What theoretical fingers
                                                                   dip into the large, tangle of wires

                                                                   You’re a bird and I'm a flag

                                                                   My blistered feet are full
                                                                   of birds
                                                                   that which exists obviously

                                                                   I take from here the emptying sounds of paradise

                                                                   across from the emergence of her body
                                                                   interpenetrating the opening
                                                                   and is surrounded by a pale afterbirth
                                                                   I just want you to know that

                                                                   I inserted the meaning
                                                                   pushing then from the contaminated torso
                                                                   back into itself
                                                                   A lifted thinking

                                                                   I fear nature

                                                                   and I fear the birds that drag
                                                                   the material world
                                                                   out of me

                                                                   I know how to live in this universe

                                                                   I know when to cover my hair
                                                                   in sand

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