track i:
admittance i’m da king of da treadmill
the belt where i scrolled “the carbon sinks don’t
stent” and that datas so meager for me
the me who still gurgles even tho i
fixed aself sweating in various stalls
minding the mine of my aisle seat business
heavy petting 10 not 20 percent
on the starbie chip chipper hmmph cha-ching
i entreat “let me make as touch as dad”
“welcome me to the promoblems of more
spread and more cell and more spilt more head”
oh sweeeet fuck yeah my watch is vibrating:
–i will not appraise this on its own terms
–i will fucking beat trader joe to death
feel the need to perform certain behaviors repeatedly
decided that desire to perform a drastic action
am going to go outside with a brick hammer
which is a hammer googled more specifically
am going to jaywalk towards a public area
yknow one of those chromeglass commerce
enchambered zones called like “the shoppes at
wisteria glen” and will traipse over to the
pavement in front of the crate & barrel and then
am going to start beating fucking skull in
it will be grotesquely painful and already
know that not a single onlooker will try to stop
teenagers will record tik toks and mothers
will emeticize and businessmen will hnnngh the most
erect they have ever been and even when you
think “surely are about to die no one can
keep smashing face in like that” will
continue to brutalize calvair until it looks
like the lasagna la tua dolce nonna used to make
this act will help no one and make everything worse
hello i am stürzenhardt von
tröpfchenheimer
and i should be inroused to flick
your barbaric
duct to milk your morally in
sane afference
to aver: i call this one the
lisbonic burr
let us let me a s m r
dura mater
just a friendly anterior
to me tomē
ahh shit has anyone seen the
cingulum clump
f ï c k me your basal ganglia
never connects
to this garbo wifi clot in
the cannula
fluid in your ablated goltzsack
the fibers
need to be didociled sought
therapy camphor
out the contraindications
i must praecree
leucotomy from the cumhole
to your lobefruit
qtip so deep it smothers all
reassurance
so to make answer to allay
there’s no assent
i’m just gonna shove this corkscrew
into your brain
Jenkin Benson is a graduate student, musician, and poet. New Mundo Press published his debut full-length book of poems are we rocking with this? in August 2025. Publications and music here.
