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“here y’are, pancake that’s

shaped like Mickey Mouse, 

guaranteed to make you smile;”

“pink sugar or yellow sugar?”

a dull scalpel drags into

a delicate symposium

filled with tears and blood;

finger blister re-opened,

shallow-throating a power drill,

removing tiny pieces of glass

embedded inside your sole;

capturing a generation on film,

emptying out the grease trap,

boots lost forever in thick mud,

notching the ears of butchered swine;

185g egg white

powdered sugar

TB of vanilla

mix in a bowl

stir constantly on low heat

don’t stop until

140-160F internal

beat until cool

and stiff

look for


parkway grass cutter taking a political campaign sign out of the ground so that he can do his job; the innocent way a child comes up to you and asks if you want to play; finding that necessary (tho delusional) compulsion to concoct prose; 

lake knife suicide,

sharp hawk claws,

pigeon head decapitation;

“did the Galler Foods order come in yet?”

1 gal hot sauce & 1lb butter

put mixture together in pan,

turn on stove, flame on, medium heat,

melt butter, don’t burn butter;






sucking on your thigh,

laughter between lips,

hands tied together,

expired plan B;

I said, “above you,”

Oh, I thought you said, “I love you,”

It’s okay, above you too;

High school advanced chemistry teacher went to Slayer concerts as a teenager so he can’t really hear very well anymore, today the ringing in his ears is giving him a migraine, he stares at the lesson plan on his desk as the bell rings and students start to shuffle in, the teacher decides to do something different today – “Good morning guys, let’s get started. Change of plans, just feeling a bit under the weather today, uhm, so, i’m going to pose a question to get us started: why do we write on the lines on a piece of paper?” – the students look at the teacher with puzzled looks – “really think about this, guys. I mean, everyone look down at your notebook paper; the blue lines are there, but what compels us to write on them?” – the students look down and appear even more perplexed – the teacher continues, “I think, well, sometimes people tell you do something, and you just do it; you do as you’re told. Today, I want y’all to turn your paper in any direction you want and write however you want. Notes and all. Fuck it.” 


Morgenrede drinks cheap beer and plays pinball in and around the American Midsouth. He has recently published a book of poetry entitled ABUSER with Pig Roast Publishing.

Morgenrede is on X/Twitter @metadegenerate

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