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Human Movement

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Blobbing the safety tarmac with human glue

Wince

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Lately he's been wanting to write about love...

The Buddhist

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She is not centered, but she finds her way.

Three Micros

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He'll tell you if you listen long enough the words run together like the teeth of a zipper.

Running In My Veins

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They say that inside the veins of every Bohemian lies an entire army of dead alcoholics. I suppose this is true of me too.

Elemental

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It was in the last expulsion/explosion (theories differ) that we became OneWith. Tsunami. Seism. Zud. All matter cast out outcast came back like a gangster on crack. What did it think it was? Who do we think we are? It thinks we think it thinks…

Borgo Was 29 on His Birthday

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Borgo said 1979/So Borga remembered 1979/for him, just in case,/for what if:/ a driver license/or an act of god/or a marriage license/or even a lease/for an apartment/you never know, she said/ so he said, okay/you remember,/so she did.

Los Angeles IKEA Existential Meltdown

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Sometimes, you compare your living situation to a prison because it makes you feel better. "At least I have a fridge," you think to yourself.

77 Words Sparked by Insomnia

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Mice dreams are a reality ...

What’s the Dark Matter Doing to Us in the Dark?

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Will it// scare us shitless when we can finally/ draw ourselves a likeness of it?

George Square

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I Buchanan Street; god strums a cheap guitar. Vaginas grow wet at clashing chords. The primitive civilised. From the city square I sense false profits, zigzag philosophies. The familiar falls…

Quasimodo Casanova

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After shooing away the filthy pigeons and closely inspecting the bench, he squinted with his good eye at a second-page article on noise abatement headphones.

Summoned by the Board

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They were all sitting naked in a sauna and drinking Diet Coke, with droopy ball sacks and sweat rolling over massive man titties and paunches. Yahweh sat on an upper bench, wearing dark goggles to protect his eyes from the brightness of his own still radi

Rodney & Chelsea

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Chelsea's breasts are more the size of tangerines, but he likes them. He likes that she smells like Fruit Loops and that her front teeth overlap slightly. Her mouth is glossed. He slips his tongue inside.

When the Germans Were on the Roof of the World

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Flew a Messerschmitt. Drove a tank over people in Poland though not in Prague, and claimed he was never a guard at the death camps.

How Zin Prepares for Early Winter While Saint Bernards Cause Major Traffic Jams along East Houston

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She sings off-key while her married lover shadow-boxes his one-dimensional and split-off selves.

City of Masks

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"There is something in the air. It makes people sick, makes them want to die. They cannot inhale too deeply for fear that it will turn them mad."

Shopping List Mind

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No-one ever sits beside him. As if he might urinate, or spit. Or, worse, engage in conversation about God.

After Our First Kiss, The Paranoia Sets In

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Your kiss has spread like a fever, persistent and catastrophic for an ill-prepared heart like mine.

Drift

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I was at Mike's place when the call came. My brother sounded so accusing that I wanted to punch him in the face. But he was way upstate. "Dad died today," he said, as if I could have somehow known or prevented it. It was sudden. A heart attack. He was…

Dark Heart

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When we take Vengeance,/ shave and shower him,/ deodorize and scent him,/ clothe him in a starched shirt

Flicking On Some Trees, Just To See Your Silly Grin in the Half-Light of the Moon

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The world knows how to make you smile. I'm certain, but it's your own unique grin that they want for themselves. It's always been their perfect prize to horde. The trouble of course comes from wanting something that only exists in…

Apartments

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. . . there is nothing so selfish as sleep.

Déjà Vu Sur l’Herbe

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While watching the ever-present crowds passing by on my insides, I noticed, by accident, a man smiling who might have been me, not sure. Maybe I’m eating soap for the first time, because I am either frothing or foaming at the mouth. An

Twelve Pens

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Their last story

How To Dismantle A Bell

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Pictures of war correspondents from The Tribune, and colonial photographs in a fruit crate

Grateful

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What I had liked about Harvard before it showed itself in psychocareerist TV appearances and lid-down disingenuous printed psychotopical drills for maintaining crass privilege was the description online of its linguistics department.

Little, Big Dipper

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I considered kissing Christian. It wouldn’t be terrible. I mean, it might be terrible, but it wouldn’t be awful. His teeth were a little crooked but he didn’t smell or anything.

Ink Play

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Lying on a high seat in the south study, this is what I see:

Figures in Disquieting Landscapes

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Tentacles hold fast to the small/ thrashing thing they believe is true// which, devoured, once crushed/ completely still, turns into shit,