Venomous Gospel

Been running all my life
Toward the light, flash in the fire fight
See the spark ignite, stash on sight
You smile, I pile the corpses right under the overpass
Crash site, chaos math, mile mark left like Poseidon’s wrath
I laugh last while you slide past
Right path, gas out, I’m beyond that
Got the drop, dropped they top
Made an O up on the block
Flip a sack, make a brick
Catch the drift, jig is lit
Golden toilet, drop your lid
Bird flip, drag lit, I’m rich
What’s in the bag, blue prisms
Lizards dead, cut with scissors
Listen close, the whispers hissin’
Chop the innards, zipper glistenin’
Monster mirrored in the riddle
Maze built, brain brittle
Play a fiddle, no violins
I’m on Ritalin at McLean’s
No Mazda, Mufasa drop
Propaganda from my shop
Start an agency like NASA
Final answer, cultic mantra
Classic laughter, Onassis stature
Head blown, mattress fracture
Lake Placid, alligators campin’
Krampus absent, Tampa savage

Cabbage canned, cabin stabbed
Edge I push, on action, maverick habits
Egyptian fabric, MAC automatic
Cocaine lavish, plutocratic static
Drip drop, stock on lock
Eiffel rock, towered plots
Flying off, drip drip
You a kid with Lincoln logs

Drip drop, Breezy top
You sneezy, I’m Doc
Drip on spot, drop on cot
Smokin’ yard, block hot
Comin’ hard, Ciroc shot
After dark, sack unlock
Card swipe, crop stock
Barn open, gods talk

Stacks packed, teach a jit
Light rigs lit, kits legit
Checklist tick, gas mitt grip
Vinton flick, need a fix
Through the lens, twitching glitch
Glock spit, dented bricks
Clock stopped, night terror
Paul bearer, pall clearer
Wax off, praise Allah
Cop badge gone, bizarre
Buried star, tour of scars
Whole crowd staring hard

Steady making masterpieces
Savage strings like tapestries
Start a symphony for the beast
Devil’s niece, divine deceit
She batty, rebel
Heaven sent in McLaren metal
You lemon drive, I’m celestial
Chain like testaments, theft intentional

Strip your melody, I’m your city’s felony
In G-string symphonies
Municipal energy, no G-code batteries
Leave scars, levitate chairs
Revelations, I’m golden mare
Flip hair, razors glare
Haters stare, I don’t care
Hibernate bears, frosted air
I got claws, I got wings
League above your petty things

Start a cult like David Koresh
I’m saving the best
Laser mesh protect the chest
I don’t miss, I don’t guess
My words drip lavish, Mac on hip
Dip low, floor kiss
Tongue strip, mind rip
We in orbit, arms lift

Landed Olympus Mons
I’m on top, they all gone
Shrimp plates, love songs
Bobbi caught, feast prolongs
Sip lager, marijuana fogger
Concerts bombed, Apollo’s daughter
Smokin’ loud, thoroughbred lungs
Weekend bled, tongue numb

Snap wrist, Salt Bae
Ten on ten, all day
Adderall flame, any track slayed
Mind strapped, bind fate
Meaning of life in paper lace
Mammon shrine, witchcraft grace

Back hard, spine steel
Pearl sand, time reel
Rebirth feel, teacher seal
Purse pull, sweet deal
Eat your nerves like sugar peels

Zeti eyes, burrito meal
Spicy steel, chalupa thrill
Waiter chill, haters squeal
Fuck Donald Trump, I’m the real
Lady now, GOAT decree
Brady throws, legacy
Biscuit rolls, basket beat
T.O. seeds, moment fleet
Die, no mourning, I’m rebornin’
Epoch croak, dawn adornin’

Smoke dope, open road
Bell toll, Velcro load
Billfold glow, billboard shows
Home alone, Macaulay mode
Sticky kush, blicky open
Saraswati flowin’, omen broken
Karate, Greco-Roman motion
Hulk Hogan, Rogan jokes in
Bobbi potent, zip smokin’
Spaceship loathin’, fears broken

Lil fishes, fryin’ pan
Water whip, wishin’ hand
Pleasure plan, coping scan
Molly water, flask grand
Chatters zooted, lilac scent
Pack shipped, side vent
Violence quest, lime light bent
Prunes drilled, fruits split

Blue shrooms, mime tunes
Afternoon, roots bloom
Milk shoot, titty truth
Pretty fumes, Dairy Queen plume
Two of you, three of me
W killers move silently
Halloween prophecy
Apple seed dynasty
Breeze hit, melon split
Kennedy clip, YouTube script

Time shift, mind lift
If awakening, why drift
Lizard flicks, movi

What’s In The Bag (freestyle)

Way Up High

The Introspect

Fish And Coral (redux)

I Can Write Some Stories

The Fermentation Cycle — Appendix & Prologue (Audio + Score)

Welcome to Brineford’s Dockstring Ward — a coastal machine-town where brick sweats salt, rumors travel faster than freight, and “civic” language is just violence with clean cuffs. Above ground: mills, docks, bars, and watchdog eyes. Below: stacked old infrastructure and swallowed history. Everything runs on pressure — steam, money, breath, leverage.

At the center of it all is the Violet Boar: a once-proud brewery the Ward is starting to talk about like it’s already dead. This prologue opens the world, the dialect, and the stakes — setting the tone for a chapter-by-chapter audio book scored with original music: lo-fi 1940s radio texture, industrial noir atmosphere, and cinematic sound design.

Headphones recommended. New chapters dropping regularly.

#TheFermentationCycle #audiobook #spokenword #industrialnoir #dockstring #violetboar #oldradio #lofi #cinematicscore #sounddesign #darkfiction


The Fermentation Cycle is an industrial-noir duology set in 1940s Brineford, where Dockstring Ward runs on steam, rumor, and the kind of “civic” language that ruins people with clean hands.
At its center squats the Violet Boar Brewery, a once-proud Kiln now being slurred as a Loom, sweating heat and debt into the street like a confession.
Elara Wexley inherits the place and its failures, walking under a city that keeps score even when it pretends it doesn’t.
Every pipe, ledger mark, and shipment becomes leverage in a quiet war between rival breweries, supply yards, and the polite enforcers who call it regulation.
The Ward itself is a chorus — bars, docks, backrooms, and watchers — deciding what the Boar is worth, and what Elara is allowed to be.
Below the surface, the undercity’s layered infrastructure and rat-choir ecology mirror the city’s neglect: history stacked like rot you can’t fully scrub.
The story turns pressure into plot: money, heat, reputation, and intimacy all pushing until something breaks and the break changes the map.
It’s harsh, cinematic, and funny in the dark, obsessed with inheritance, survival, and the cost of naming what’s really happening.

The Fermentation Cycle  (The Violet Boar & Rats)  Appendix & Prologue

The Fermentation Cycle · Industrial Noir Audiobook

Playlist description

Rowan here. I am your observer, your liaison.

The Fermentation Cycle is a two book industrial noir saga by Raquel Fischer. It follows Elara Wexley, a reluctant heir trying to keep the Violet Boar brewery alive while rats, bad paper, and a rotting city move under her feet.

This playlist is the full audiobook version, each chapter carried on lofi instrumentals and the soft hiss of a 1940s radio. It is working class, queer, political, and deeply bodily. Pressure sits in every pipe and ledger line while the rats and the people show who really has a conscience.

I will be posting two chapters a day until the duology is complete. Set this on, walk into Dockstring with me, and stay long enough to feel the floor shift.

The Fermentation Cycle · Industrial Noir  (summary)

Chapter 1 description

Chapter 1 drops us beside Elara on the walk toward the Violet Boar. Dockstring is already talking. The Boar is being called a “loom,” like it is small, like it is over. We stay with her as she listens to the street, weighs the insults, and decides whether she is going to step into this place that wants her labor but not her softness. This is the first day the city tests her name.

Chapter 1 hashtags

#chapter1 #TheFermentationCycle #VioletBoar #industrialnoir #noirfiction #grittyfiction #darkliterary #dockstring #workingclass #heirstory #queerlead #soundtrackstory #audiobookchapter #lofi #radiohiss

Chapter 2 hashtags
#chapter2 #TheFermentationCycle #VioletBoar #brewerylife #industrialnoir #darkfiction #literaryfiction #workers #rats #pressure #undercity #queerstory #soundtrackchapter #audiobookseries #lofi #radioaesthetic

The Violet Boar ·  (ch 1 & ch2)

Chapter 3 — The Paper Under the Boar
Beneath the Violet Boar, in the sweating dark where pipes drip and rats skitter, the crew turns up a single damp sheet of paper with a stranger’s name on it: Lydia Hodge. The find doesn’t make sense — wrong place, wrong layer, wrong life — but it lands like a fuse in the middle of an already-failing brewery. This chapter sits close to the floorboards: grime, concrete, bad lighting, and the sick math of what happens if the Boar goes under. Lofi hums under a 1940s radio haze while the world quietly tilts.

Chapter 4 — We Don’t Need a College Girl
Etta calls the number on the paper and reaches Lydia, a calm voice on the other end of the line who should have nothing to do with a dying dockside brewery. Lydia dodges the mystery and pivots into a job pitch, offering her training and pattern-brain as a way to keep the Boar alive. Etta bristles and shuts her down — “we don’t need more women here, and we sure as hell don’t need a college girl” — and the call dies without resolution. This chapter lives in that click on the line: pride, class, gender, and the sense that something dangerous just tried to enter the story and got pushed back… for now.

The Violet Boar- (Ch3 & Ch4)

Welcome to The Fermentation Cycle – a 1940s industrial-noir duology told as a slow-burn audio experience.

Every day I drop a new chapter with its own lofi score running through a crackling 1940s radio: low drums, hiss, distant horns, machinery in the walls. You’re not just reading a book – you’re inside a failing dockside brewery, listening to the pipes, the ledgers, and the rats under the floor.

Book I follows The Violet Boar, a once-powerful brewery in a corrupt coastal city, held together by heat, debt, queer love, and bad decisions. It’s adult, cerebral, immersive: pressure, politics, undercity tunnels, rat “choirs,” and a city that launders violence into paperwork.

Start at the Prologue and move forward a chapter a day, or let the playlist run like a haunted late-night radio station.

🔧 Tone: harsh 1940s noir, queer, anti-capitalist, psychological, slow escalation
🎧 Sound: lofi, tape-hiss, radio crackle, industrial ambience
📚 Project: The Fermentation Cycle Duology – The Violet Boar & Rats

The Fermentation Cycle is an adult industrial-noir duology set in 1940s Brineford, where Dockstring Ward runs on steam, rumor, and the kind of “civic” language that ruins people with clean hands.
At its center squats the Violet Boar Brewery, a once-proud Kiln now being slurred as a Loom, sweating heat and debt into the street like a confession.
Elara Wexley inherits the place and its failures, walking under a city that keeps score even when it pretends it doesn’t.
Every pipe, ledger mark, and shipment becomes leverage in a quiet war between rival breweries, supply yards, and the polite enforcers who call it regulation.
The Ward itself is a chorus — bars, docks, backrooms, and watchers — deciding what the Boar is worth, and what Elara is allowed to be.
Below the surface, the undercity’s layered infrastructure and rat-choir ecology mirror the city’s neglect: history stacked like rot you can’t fully scrub.
The story turns pressure into plot: money, heat, reputation, and intimacy all pushing until something breaks and the break changes the map.
It’s harsh, cinematic, and funny in the dark, obsessed with inheritance, survival, and the cost of naming what’s really happening.

The Violet Boar- (Ch3 & Ch4)

Raquel Fischer

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