Heartless and Disorientated

baby grand

the newborn brachycera are at it again,

squirming in my detritophageous guts, decomposition ribs

my eroding bones are dusting, same difference as when you blow over the top of your old baby grand, decades of settled age and allergies whisked into the air like a cloud of pollution just to settle again and morph into dustbunnies drifting across your cold basement floor.

i set fire to my eyes to burn out the botflies but they just smoked like the shelf of quinquagenarian candles, lit for the first time in fifty years, the smoke was thick and black and musty and the botflies just burrowed deeper into my brain, binging tunnels through my hypothalamus, a diptera warren,

how's it taste, Big Y brachycera? my motor control? endocrine systems are so last year