Apocalypse fistpump

Go _______________ yourself. For you are a—wait for it—construction.

              (auger)

You have the bodily countenance of a pile of construction equipment in the

moonlight. What a _______________________ thing to say.            

                                               (adjective)

By _____________ we are more vexed. By day we are boards, fences, 

            (time)

     bloodlettings.

I do street art of mystical ohms and you wouldn’t get me. Paint this ________ 

                                                                                                                                         (color)

      and call it

the new flesh.  This is the unification no-man’s zone between language and the

     body,

though the skull is always less so. In my guts I kill the debris. It’s my only filter.

I’m super pumped for the apocalypse.

I’m not a fate type. My new flesh is cultural implications of poetry sewn

     together

with pipecleaners and fake flowers. Someone died here, isn’t that

     ____________________?

                 (adjective)