I

Band photo in the woods.
Nightstick. Tripod. Shot list:
Stick fight.
Big witch energy.
Chromium oxide on moss.

This was not:
Very metal.
Glamping.

II

Our blistering duet,
searing bright or stuck rut.
At night we twist like twins
to curl in one shared skull.

Wires coil on the practice carpet.
We don’t know high love.
We know work: Gaffer tape groans,
coffee pots with scalded bottoms.

III

It’s 3am we spit imperial seppuku it’s 3pm we remix it’s 3 days later
your short thick fingers probe my pucker, curve the tail end of the drone

Band photo in the woods
on an old logging road, 800 ISO,
kneeling with my father’s machete.

IV

TOUR DIARY

Clever claims adjuster. JACKAL
How are you so pretty and so technical

Bad faith fusillades again! After our set
I ran out screaming you have no higher self

V

Bile and amphetamine:
I cry you back and lick the seam.
We review the negatives
linked in soaked sheets:

You look sedate. Next time, corpse paint!

We don’t know high love.