164 lede

Insomniac by Tim Frank

I’M CRAWLING up the WALLS. I’m howling at the moon. I’m drilling holes in the floorboards. I’m eating butter straight from the butter dish with my fingers. I’m smoking rollies the wrong way round, sucking on a mouthful of tobacco. I’m discombobulated. I’m texting my fiancĂ© in Nigeria. She’s asleep but I’m texting her anyway. When she wakes there’ll be over 100 messages waiting for her.
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actinic ray. by Tanner Menard

ebony.
spirits shimmer violet,
blacknight orbs.

walking in direction,
images jarr
incinerated retinas.

Pitchspoon. by Rose Knapp

Vaporwav|
Used tube|
Ad   derail|
+  Tongue|
Na     Chic|
Crit       IQ|
Now   Esq|

The Moon. by Natalie Crick

Schools of moths descend,
Pulled in by waves of light when

The fields begin to steam like horses
In the cool

Like the hush of rainfall
After the sun’s marriage to the skies.

On brand. by Gary W Hartley

and Cillit Bang brought inner peace
and Aquafresh meant thoughtfulness
and Red Bull gave you foresight
and Sellotape brought gentle touch
and Panadol cured callousness
and Duracel made you stop and think

No Man An Island Is, Or Something. by Philip Elliott

only the living need to eat. twenty pounds
less to drag behind. grasping, freefalling
(Petty made it sound like a good thing),
drifting in the dark between [terribly
sad] stars [they can never touch, only
stare longingly from their tiny pocket of
space].