@rmdustin.bsky.social
Flâneur Factotum Pluviophile
Writer of poetic things because language fails me.
Some of my stuff is here: https://www.richdustin.substack.com
https://www.instagram.com/r_m_dustn/?hl=en
Writer of poetic things because language fails me.
Some of my stuff is here: https://www.richdustin.substack.com
https://www.instagram.com/r_m_dustn/?hl=en
I just barely warmed up to steampunk, now I have to deal with dandyism?
May 7, 2025 at 5:11 PM
I just barely warmed up to steampunk, now I have to deal with dandyism?
Get lost in the butter. Salted is best. Build levees and pool it in reservoirs for later. Swim with the rendered, the crispness, the confit. Roll with the marble sliced along its lines. Caramelized. Encrusted. Death by arterial asphyxiation is a holy act.
Don’t forget the jus.
Don’t forget the jus.
May 7, 2025 at 4:19 PM
Get lost in the butter. Salted is best. Build levees and pool it in reservoirs for later. Swim with the rendered, the crispness, the confit. Roll with the marble sliced along its lines. Caramelized. Encrusted. Death by arterial asphyxiation is a holy act.
Don’t forget the jus.
Don’t forget the jus.
Backyard ballistics or poultry? You choose.
May 7, 2025 at 4:16 PM
Backyard ballistics or poultry? You choose.
I’m sitting here on the deck, in the sun, with my guitar, in my old man Costco shorts, singing songs of low socioeconomic humor, with not even one damn tattoo to show off. The crowd is sparse but my espresso is tight.
May 7, 2025 at 4:15 PM
I’m sitting here on the deck, in the sun, with my guitar, in my old man Costco shorts, singing songs of low socioeconomic humor, with not even one damn tattoo to show off. The crowd is sparse but my espresso is tight.
Sorta bored with the compartmentalization. Boxes are borders. Someone left my boxes out in the rain. The sides are soggy. They smell like wet dogs. The recycler won’t take them. I’m supposed to crawl in and not move around so much. The cats just stare. I escaped workweek cubicles for this.
May 7, 2025 at 4:14 PM
Sorta bored with the compartmentalization. Boxes are borders. Someone left my boxes out in the rain. The sides are soggy. They smell like wet dogs. The recycler won’t take them. I’m supposed to crawl in and not move around so much. The cats just stare. I escaped workweek cubicles for this.
I don’t want everyone to hate celebrities, just their antics. Unless their antics are what makes them celebrities. Shit. Never mind.
May 7, 2025 at 4:10 PM
I don’t want everyone to hate celebrities, just their antics. Unless their antics are what makes them celebrities. Shit. Never mind.
For me, May 4th will always be the anniversary when Americans, who were never held accountabe, fired upon and killed Americans in a supposedly modern world, because that was the most reasonable thing to do.
May 4, 2025 at 3:13 PM
For me, May 4th will always be the anniversary when Americans, who were never held accountabe, fired upon and killed Americans in a supposedly modern world, because that was the most reasonable thing to do.
Empire is a crime syndicate. Ask its victims. There usually are quite a few.
May 3, 2025 at 4:01 PM
Empire is a crime syndicate. Ask its victims. There usually are quite a few.
We’ve recently tasked our cats to make us laugh more. Can’t tell if they are strategizing or ignoring.
May 1, 2025 at 6:25 PM
We’ve recently tasked our cats to make us laugh more. Can’t tell if they are strategizing or ignoring.
When I finally get the news, the market has already factored it in. Odd how that works.
May 1, 2025 at 6:25 PM
When I finally get the news, the market has already factored it in. Odd how that works.
I luvs me some awesome industrial diseases to ponder.
May 1, 2025 at 6:24 PM
I luvs me some awesome industrial diseases to ponder.
I miss faces lighting up. I don’t see much of that anymore. That brief moment when authenticity takes hold around the edges and in the creases, forcing all the shit to the back of the room. Don’t be put off if you catch me uncomfortably staring into your surfaces. I’m searching to quell a longing.
April 27, 2025 at 3:41 PM
I miss faces lighting up. I don’t see much of that anymore. That brief moment when authenticity takes hold around the edges and in the creases, forcing all the shit to the back of the room. Don’t be put off if you catch me uncomfortably staring into your surfaces. I’m searching to quell a longing.
Concerning Bill Maher. Once the heartbreaking onslaught of irrelevance begins to creep upon you, you have to resort to something outrageous to get back into the public discussion. It doesn’t matter if there’s a right or wrong worth. These are the ways of the narcissists amongst us.
April 23, 2025 at 6:21 PM
Concerning Bill Maher. Once the heartbreaking onslaught of irrelevance begins to creep upon you, you have to resort to something outrageous to get back into the public discussion. It doesn’t matter if there’s a right or wrong worth. These are the ways of the narcissists amongst us.
parades and honorees
Renal Diaries
Proletariat Pi
Poetry
open.substack.com
April 22, 2025 at 5:44 PM
If Trump could just shut up until we die, our retirement funds would stretch a little farther and that would be just great.
April 21, 2025 at 5:11 PM
If Trump could just shut up until we die, our retirement funds would stretch a little farther and that would be just great.
Not complaining. Rolling. open.substack.com/pub/richdust...
Nothing, Everything Unravels
Isn’t it about the fear of the disintegration of all things we think we know?
open.substack.com
April 9, 2025 at 3:08 PM
Not complaining. Rolling. open.substack.com/pub/richdust...
March 27, 2025 at 5:56 PM
The Tangerine Tumbleweed is named for my own amusement. He exists for no other reason. He can’t be taken seriously. Since no one can seem to put him in front of a firing squad, that’s just the way it’s going to have to be. I wish I could sketch for shit.
March 22, 2025 at 4:33 PM
The Tangerine Tumbleweed is named for my own amusement. He exists for no other reason. He can’t be taken seriously. Since no one can seem to put him in front of a firing squad, that’s just the way it’s going to have to be. I wish I could sketch for shit.
just one poem… only one
Renal Diaries
Proletariat Pi
Poetry
open.substack.com
March 19, 2025 at 4:36 PM