The Elk Cyborg and the New Supermoon

My ecotheory and ecopoetics of the Hominid Birthing and The Elk Cyborg is to be published in Tract/Trace: An Investigative Journal this coming Friday. Listen to my Elk Cyborg animalscape during its release on Friday, March 20 when the New Supermoon eclipses the equinox Sun!

The Monsters

My first girlfriend

never became my girlfriend
because I told her I liked her brain--

We were nervous animals.

American

Street
jacket assed-open:

the road kill sky,

a mummified cat.

The tarmac
wilderness is astral.

Bluejay

I could
just leap out

of the weeping
tentacles

with my shutter
chest open

and capture
the sweetest hair.

The crows

have removed
my eyes.

I mean
one leaped

with my eye
out the socket

and stuck its
crud-feet

into the
crescent moon.

I am careening
in lunar agar,

spiraling

in rows
of corn,

in dark globules
of granite.

I am
creeped-out,

in ocular
beneath

the cold, static
tentacles of night.

*

The leaves
begin to fall,

and peeking
from the gravel:

A child says to
mom,

"what are these strange berries?"

Deforestation

I rattle out the coffin--unearth myself in granite--shed my skin in attics--my arm in eagle's shadow--I have awaken--in a cathedral, mangled--I am prepared--for the constellationless night--the slaughter--aped-out in a cave of giant skeletons--I witness my ejecta--spiral, milky lurking--my legs have been cancelled--a mysterious animal mutilation--the static residual--silver crawlspace--the space between bodies--a movement in bone-white--the sub-ethereal pines--when axes lick the organs.

Postcard

Wet bird, etherbird
crud-bird of unlight.

Here beneath the outcrops--
here in the vuggy wad,

the tesla-alloy scyscape,
Prairies' winds drone.