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Grounded, sitting on the cherry floor with his knees pulled into his chest in the corner of the foyer like a dunce or nail salon Buddha.

My daddy is American Gothic 24/7, not Party City or seasonal!

My daddy has slate Rock for brains, head, shoulders, knees, and talons, so I can’t bring that guy with me anywhere!

My daddy is Guardian grotesque, the voluntary embodiment of chronic constipation. Look at how

he Ornaments the floor with his chosen lumpish body, jump scaring our guests sometimes into laughter into the living room.

My daddy stays Yoked without lifting a damned dope finger.

My daddy just Lurks in his shadowy section of the apartment, hoarding dusty Welcome-Homes behind his folded knees.

My daddy wishes Evil upon just about everybody but me, because I’m the only one who lies with him in house moss and blubbers prayers into his ears, tickling his caked canines, poking his inflamed nostrils, plugging away at any sign of life.


Madison Murray is a Brooklyn-based writer and multimedia artist from Salem, Massachusetts. Her poetry and short fiction have been published by The Blood Pudding, Quiet Lightning, dream boy book club, and Everybody Press. Her debut book, "My Gaping Masshole" (self-published) will come out Fall 2023. Follow her on instagram @saintsoil.

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