Donna Dallas

Post Covid Reality

Let the amount of emails I have determine my purpose today let the world burn in my image disgusting and gaunt sidetracked by texts Wechats bank pings and bullshit another app Tony Robbins save me please the powers down from the storm trees fell like twigs dishes piled like the fucking tower of babel I don’t know where to look in my house where there isn’t shit that should not be there in every spot the dog has fleas up his ass crack I’ve driven 24 hours in 48 to make these little fucks happy make them safe give and give and give until the well runs dry and we sift like urchins in the muddy residue my love we are clogging the data wasting the generator wasting days


War, Again and Again

In the wake of our destruction
brought on by our own sicknesses
I’d bring the sun down
singe this earth
to charcoaled bones
every living organism
to a rich ashen mulch
for a rebirth
on some other virgin and pristine
undiscovered planet

I’d rather harness the sun
and burn us au natural
then be nuked
to putrefying flesh
off the body – or bitten by a rage of bullets
piercing holes into skin
survive to be enslaved
in some modernized death camp
mind-fucked to grow potatoes
or make plastic doilies

These horrors
we repeat over and over
from mars to earth
to the next shiny coin of a planet
I’d pull that sun down
like the quick drop of a show curtain
after its wonderful finale

Let the curtain burn
give us our honor.