1808 8 7
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When the full moon changes trajectory and comes close it pushes you to different gravitational fields
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180875
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I bleed my heart into my computer, peruse The fact they have proclaimed my root unfit for use But it is I! This manhood, this tower Extending up toward the heavens like a miraculous flower, Purple headed warrior of generation, See it standing…
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180800
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A Nonfiction Behind the Scenes look at how the Arcana Magi Universe came to existence.
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180811
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Perhaps a blue person is more alive underneath than a red. Red is eye-catching and flashy, but blue is substantial, secretive. Of course, blood is red, and there’s nothing more substantial than blood, but we’re on blue at the moment, and the thought
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180872
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Can't cope.
Got no hope.
Got no dope.
Call the Pope.
Get the rope.
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180700
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Track One Johnny Burkemeister, lead vocals and flutist of the band Albatross Antics, sits on his bed thinking in silence. His elbow rests on his knee, and his palm on his forehead with his fingers running through his dirty-blonde hair. He is staring at a copy of Paste…
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1807107
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turn my Dorothy Hamill into a golden shadow
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180776
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1807139
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180711
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He laughed – pictures traveled across his mind of bodies and mouths and the sex and the liquor, he could taste the flesh and the alcohol right then, strong, immediate.
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180700
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"What the hell does profligate mean?!" He shouted.
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180799
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And she finds calm
in the word “Easter,”
thinking about chocolate
and, for some reason, our dog Panda. I think
of you tonight, Linda...
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180764
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And as you try to read, he appears.
No, not in front of you, but somewhere
just behind your eyes. You hear the sound
at the end of an argument, just before
the kiss; you see a shirt fall to the ground
in late summer; you watch him read
as his mouth
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180754
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Aubrey pulled close the wool cloak that used to belong to a pilgrim and wondered if some of that saintliness and pardon might rub off. The mail was late and the bushes damp, but at least years of living in the woods had taught Aubrey to avoid thorns…
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180700
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Bill was queasy, short of breath, his chest tightening. He was next. How he hated this game of confession. It was harder than going to a priest, which at least allowed a measure of anonymity. True, these were friends, yet, in terms of the game, he was vastly…
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180741
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Paul Shaffer and his cloned henchman Mini Paul come rattling through the early morning sky in a modified World War I biplane.
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180664
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Then he told us tales of skulls and planks, galleons and parrots, silver and gold on crystal Jamaican seas under deep ruby skies.
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1806136
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4. Hers blocking driveway, his diagonal in grass
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1806103
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ill kept secrets for sun and dance, sun and moon-shaped universes in the sky.
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180555
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The generalized mania and rage was for anything prior, the rare and the bygone, anything that might have been overlooked, anything that might otherwise have been forgotten for good and forever.
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180597
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Dark, green grass covered the pasture like millions of tiny fingers swaying in the heat.
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1805129
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I want youto remember me. This the placewhere I'll always be, if you're looking hard enough.This is the place I've letgo of all expectations, no regrets, and nomasks. This the place my heartbobbs about like a…
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180532
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He arrives at the appointed hour, driving up the dusty road in his '68 Ford truck. On the side is stenciled “Sampson's Farrier Service.” He parks in front of the barn. Patience watches from the front porch, where she has just set down a…
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1805106
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In the small hours, when the crackling of the embers had stopped and the room had gone cold, the boiler kicked in and the pipes began to clang. He was half-roused out of his sleep, and then slipped under again to dream of Marley's fettered ghost.
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180544
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It’s nice, but, it’s weird not being in love, or maybe in love, sometimes in love.
(Or, not in love. Frankly, we might be not in love.)
Or, both of us might be. Or, only one of us might be.
(Good lord, I hope it’s never me.)
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180543
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#spotify / Elevators / Sky Burial Monologue
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18051510
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I tell my woman friend the new man's penis is too large. I tell her once. She asks me later whether I asked about it at the doctor's—large cock, she calls it, and I say I told the doctor my boyfriend's in a wheelchair.
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180531
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Hipster-neutral dressed simulacra-person offers a glance and a wave, sudden as a ping-pong serve, designed to crowd your space and "pal" you but I dodge it — I'm practiced at this.
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180594
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The blood from my palm runs across the rocky surface of the shell. I push the knife into the crease again, searching for a weakness, the one space where the two sides will gasp and then separate. You tell me it doesn’t matter.
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180500
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Oryn knelt down beside Alysia and grabbed her white and light blue hair. She pulled it back, and tried to get an emotional response. Their eyes locked in place. Sparks of anger clashing between their faces.
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