Barbara De Franceschi



How Could You

In darkness slicked with humidity, I practice nocturnal habits scented by anal secretions. Milked glands daub human skin, rain-soaked undergrowth breeds my musky smell. Maligned for the spread of a deadly virus, I am culled in a blame-dance seeking revenge. …

Posted in 87: DIFFICULT | Tagged

Hell Opens

on the fetid pant of dusk

Posted in 39: ZOMBIE 2.0 | Tagged

Mining the Idyllic

Coming off night shift I trudge a dusty path to transportable simulated comforts. With body clock out of sync and lungs dehydrated, I try to justify this fly-in/ fly-out location infested with hard hats and steel-toed boots. Toxic the camp …

Posted in 33: PASTORAL | Tagged