Adrian Bush
@plunteere.bsky.social
the work is mysterious and important #severance
February 21, 2025 at 4:48 AM
the work is mysterious and important #severance
I read Mamas handwriting between confused sobs. It was plain and unsophisticated, with wobbling letters that danced around the lines and crossed each other.
‘I love you,’ is what she had meant, surely. It was still so hard to believe.
‘I love you,’ is what she had meant, surely. It was still so hard to believe.
January 22, 2025 at 5:14 AM
I read Mamas handwriting between confused sobs. It was plain and unsophisticated, with wobbling letters that danced around the lines and crossed each other.
‘I love you,’ is what she had meant, surely. It was still so hard to believe.
‘I love you,’ is what she had meant, surely. It was still so hard to believe.
"Bolzenkinder"
As ancient as the raven looked, it held the rifle with some comfort. The mechanisms of war, to the thing, were intuitive.
As ancient as the raven looked, it held the rifle with some comfort. The mechanisms of war, to the thing, were intuitive.
April 28, 2024 at 8:57 AM
"Bolzenkinder"
As ancient as the raven looked, it held the rifle with some comfort. The mechanisms of war, to the thing, were intuitive.
As ancient as the raven looked, it held the rifle with some comfort. The mechanisms of war, to the thing, were intuitive.
"Swells"
We expected advanced aircraft, many over many. No one could have known that the enemy would instead bring the sea itself against us.
We expected advanced aircraft, many over many. No one could have known that the enemy would instead bring the sea itself against us.
April 14, 2024 at 9:23 AM
"Swells"
We expected advanced aircraft, many over many. No one could have known that the enemy would instead bring the sea itself against us.
We expected advanced aircraft, many over many. No one could have known that the enemy would instead bring the sea itself against us.
portrait from imagination- thinking of legions of big spaceships for some reason
March 10, 2024 at 9:36 AM
portrait from imagination- thinking of legions of big spaceships for some reason
“White Train to the Sun”
Been having a hard time making art away from work, so I’m relishing in the little successes. I feel my sensibilities slipping away somehow.
Been having a hard time making art away from work, so I’m relishing in the little successes. I feel my sensibilities slipping away somehow.
February 1, 2024 at 5:19 PM
“White Train to the Sun”
Been having a hard time making art away from work, so I’m relishing in the little successes. I feel my sensibilities slipping away somehow.
Been having a hard time making art away from work, so I’m relishing in the little successes. I feel my sensibilities slipping away somehow.
“The Men in Rocks”
Plumes of dust fell from his tongue as he heaved and spoke to me in the grandfather of my language.
“Soldier hundreds more, then. Bring the men and the metals to this gorge so they may return to the earth.”
Plumes of dust fell from his tongue as he heaved and spoke to me in the grandfather of my language.
“Soldier hundreds more, then. Bring the men and the metals to this gorge so they may return to the earth.”
January 5, 2024 at 3:15 AM
“The Men in Rocks”
Plumes of dust fell from his tongue as he heaved and spoke to me in the grandfather of my language.
“Soldier hundreds more, then. Bring the men and the metals to this gorge so they may return to the earth.”
Plumes of dust fell from his tongue as he heaved and spoke to me in the grandfather of my language.
“Soldier hundreds more, then. Bring the men and the metals to this gorge so they may return to the earth.”
But we were missing, and the sun was rising; Somewhere over that horizon, the old country was awake, heaving with great gunpowder lungs and shrieking for her children. She was only a day behind us.
August 13, 2023 at 8:49 PM
But we were missing, and the sun was rising; Somewhere over that horizon, the old country was awake, heaving with great gunpowder lungs and shrieking for her children. She was only a day behind us.
Mud slipped between our toes and danced through the air as the Bison desperately sought traction. Our eyes shut tight, our ears were thick with engine roar, and our skin wore ragged on the tense metal cable. Castes alike. As we would now go anywhere.
August 13, 2023 at 8:48 PM
Mud slipped between our toes and danced through the air as the Bison desperately sought traction. Our eyes shut tight, our ears were thick with engine roar, and our skin wore ragged on the tense metal cable. Castes alike. As we would now go anywhere.
