flakes dangling down, I watch them

crawl up, unhindered, pick yourself

up off the ocean floor, a blue crab sprints

into your outreached hand, and there’s mud

streaked all over your face, covering the dimples,

no, sinking in, a sinkhole, swallowing the very last

bite of tomato soup, fluorescent lights blind,

car horns and headlights shine, the raven pecks

at the sheen of aluminum foil, rain turns

into icicles, dangles down, drips down

 into puddles of melted grilled cheese, smile,

  the folds in your eyes, they’re missing, posters

 get plastered, the lights flicker, dim, you dim-

witted boy, get your head out of your ass,

your eardrums shatter, the icicles break

into little flakes that get sprinkled on

your cereal, a garnish for the morning.

Illustration Elliot Wyatt
Words Katie Zhou

Armour Magazine Season 26 — S/S 2021