Tag: The X-Files


Introspection

Two ways to write a poem
about your feelings.
First, like an autopsy
on The X-Files: gasping, recoiling,
—Mulder, come look at this—
viscous green shame, pulsating love
that won't die, filmy gray residues of hatred,
a new species of jealousy
antithetical to science—
all as repulsive as it is …
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