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Kali (Addiction), Daniel J. Flosi

We arrive bloodthirsty & in search of her. A globe

of gnats surrounds our procession of ripe death; lobes

of rotting rosecorpse adorn our heads. We have been down

this sweltering road for days now, screaming

with desperate need & devotion, her name. & have

gathered a band of white moths & flies flickering

like a flag of nations. The locals hide in bars & cover

their eyes with rust. We take the farmer's daughter

& wife & sons & let them drink our Vin de Noix.

We dance to the rhythm of the cymbals of despair

& chew on gunmetal, we chew on ink sacs & spit out

prairie mountains to graffiti the town with her name.

Cicadas scream a wake as we make our departure,

lazy with desire, we make our way to the next town.


Daniel J. Flosi sometimes thinks they are an apparition living in a half-acre coffin within the V of the Mississippi and Rock Rivers. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Prometheus Dreaming, eris & eros, The Closed Eye Open, The Good Life Review, Zero Readers, and Wild Roof Journal. Drop a line @muckermaffic.

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