m.t. whitington


A force majeure, female catalyst, futurist, polemicist, psychonaut, epistemologist. Ruminating between the lines with a clarion call and extreme unction.  A global writer with southern roots.


your brain is a garden

your brain is a garden

your brain is a garden 

and every night is pruning season

imagine becoming eternity 

deciphering the cold code of the stars

slicing synaptic connections swimming in the embers

forget in the fullness of cleansing sleep’s harmony

fire together holding the universe side by side

beyond the blue of blue snip the long laterals 

remove the strong upright shoots

keep calm cutting to the ring

pinch head and thin defragment

spark but be mindful of what you think

control what gets deleted water the synapse

the ones that get oxygenated you keep

craft your own mind what you focus on prevails

your brain is a garden 

and every morning rewired be reborn.







The Reading

The Reading

omnicide fragmented air

omnicide fragmented air