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Like Icarus
…you can see them in the distance insects circling with rough and tattered wings careening off each other stupid, blind and insignificant fighting for the chance to fall…
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Stench
Early morning, waking alone in the cluttered nest you built the stench of last year’s sheets and last night’s desperation turn your stomach and the water on the bedside stand is gone, the glass left empty by the stranger who crept over you shameful in your flaccid state saliva like a spider’s web, linking you…
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Eleven twenty-three fourteen
…a book about the Grateful Dead the taste of fruit and whiskey…
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On Friendship and Cohabitation
“I’m not good at living with someone,” she said looking down at the floor. “I know,” I said. “I’m not either. But.” And I went home and waited for the song of tires on gravel folded myself into him, a tiny slip of paper in his palm.
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Half-assed Elegy
Shy at first, (the way you are when you begin to realize that your invisible friends and Santa Claus aren’t real but you make your lists and set out extra teacups anyway) I was hesitant to speak mumbled out into the dark and empty room the echo I imagined shut me up and turned to…
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Umbilicus
and all the times we’ve flattered ourselves into dreaming scars away, wishing lives into existence made of fog and manufactured hope malt liquor and memories strung charms onto rough hemp rope and graduated from the bottom of the middle class to find ourselves sitting on the crunchy lawn, stomping fire ants and drinking from the…
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Story Time for Miscreants and Malcontents
So, this is happening. If you’re local, come check it out. I always have to include a disclaimer: I’m very very uncomfortable doing readings, so if I don’t seem super cheerful and outgoing afterward, I promise it’s not personal. I’ll be happy to see you. Really. https://www.facebook.com/events/1463798203907907/
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Wreck.
This is the part, tiny little nothing man where you reach down inside where everything good festers and dies, pull out your misery and strangle yourself with your own fetid tongue. Street whore cries injustice, plastic face melting off under the acid of her manufactured tears knees bruised and bloody from too long at his…
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Litter
Yesterday, I came across another blog I’d started then abandoned. It’s only a couple years old, and I have no idea why I gave it up and started this one. They may even have overlapped, I’m not sure, I haven’t looked. Anyway, I thought I’d move some stuff over from there to here. Here’s the…
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Fly
The world is defined by the dregs dying at the bottom of your cup drowning in the cold, left behind by your apathetic inability to do something as simple as change the filter –dumping the new, coarsely ground by some half-assed industrial machine on top of what was left from last time, stale and bitter…
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April Fox 