COREY QURESHI

blast off

She looks strong

There's nothing worse

Than a heart of gold

Down in the pit

But where else can one feel

Besides where one cannot buy

And buying will always function

As an assault weapon

In the expanse of stagnant live corpses

Once, someone explained an aesthetic theory to me

I dropped the sentences the memories of the words in the garbage

the Night it groan'd with true preoccupation

What's a look but a given and received thing

Wat's a nite but the intermittent pause of significance

All of the night's substantiality

is but a moment a splash in the ocean of this century

illiterate artists

Supposition of guilt

It hardly need presence

Everything Organic in no preparation

(the love and joy in preparing)

It quickly wilts in transparency

depart’d from the love and joy

into

Abstractions of numbers

Mummifies one and

Binds them in the chains of another

a Thought

Only a crunch of animus it breaks up

the Beauty of Absence

Death Penalty Impending

In an

Obsequiousness it do suit majority

It do not ever claw out and if so

Inevitable magnetism of The Law

We everyone cherry pick which matters

a Truck it pulls in with tonnes of baggage

Any given concern of any non-self is baggage

Any given town wants ouur death and positions

the Whole setup to magnetism or a slant

Which we claw out off over out off into anew

COREY QURESHI is a writer based in Philadelphia. He runs the website and reading series BOXX Press. Find more @ qboxo.substack.com