the noise was unbearable, the screaming of the flowers didn’t let up for a second. the stink unfathomable, pig had shit themselves, and the giant blind frog they sat upon was starting to think something was amiss. / but maybe the flowers weren’t screaming, 2025
when gerald awoke, he was a pile of fruit, vegetable, junk food and rubbish. a rat was already calling dibs on his knee, now a knob of cheese. the faeries gathered around him were giggling at his predicament, and his giant honk of an eggplant. “fuck,” tho, 2026
the witch cackled, the moon was full, she could feel the magical power brimming from her fingertips. below, the parade of her reanimated corpes marched towards the polling booth. she was sure she had enough numbers to swing the safe seat of PenisBalls in , 2026