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Clerk’s Lair
Here’s the mouth of the caustic grinder,
the abyss made of paper and people.
The queue stretches from life to death
and various stages of pain stand in between.
Penstroke decisions can take away your breath
but forever goes the hum of the machine.an earlier poem of mine
Who I am: A bi, tomboyish girl from Hungary, half-German by blood, born in 1989. Currently looking for a job/way to live in Northern Europe.
What I post: Only stuff I like. Cats. WWII. Auroras. People I like. Landscapes I like. Dead bodies. Music things. The residues of the transition from death to life and back.
Ways to get blocked: Religious preaching, anti-suicide content, homophobic stuff, leftist propaganda, lying to my face, being mean to cats.
Ways to get followed: nice content (WWII, death, cats, etc.), being my friend elsewhere, being super nice to me.
Heil Meow!
