October 6, 2018



A modern-day village,


charged with skepticism, 


brimming with romantic brands of poverty,


shooting up under catwalks, 


a megalopolitan vista, 


magnificent from across the river, 


dark and dank once inside her belly, 


on the back of two fat rats,


moves a toupee,


working in tandem they carry, 


this maybe Russian weave,


into the street,


the place with sewer drains,


the viscera of a gut bag, 


carrying plastic bottles, 


and lottery tickets, 


and piss,


at the speed of gravity,


into the molten core of her heart, 


everyone over or under an overpass,


always one wrong decision away from bankruptcy,


the tightrope walk of those who live on top of each other,


a man stretched out on the sidewalk with no hair.


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Rush Eby

I'm an American writer, and novelist based out of Franklin Tennessee.

 I spent my early adulthood traveling through Europe and Asia before enlisting in the United States Marine Corps infantry where I attained the rank of Sergeant.

 I'm a marketing executive at


and now contribute articles, essays, and fiction pieces to various publications. 

 My first novel Eat Me is currently in pre-publication and I am now finishing my upcoming book, Fetish.