Our favorite games were killing.Our favorite books were death.It had been beaten into us:God is love.Not the parched face and gnarledcapes across a stick body; jitteringin the nude sky, we couldn't seetrying to touch usfor the blood in our eyes.

~ Joseph Bathanti

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The clock sweats out each minuteof what meat is left to us.

~ Joseph Bathanti

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But there was little heart to our lust,only the confusion of not knowinghow long we'd have in our bodies.

~ Joseph Bathanti

Joseph Bathanti Daria Lust Mortality This Metal Youth