Monthly Archives: August 2020

make sense yet…

what i see “Always in your stomach and in your skin there was a sort of protest, a feeling that you had been cheated of something that you had a right to.” — George Orwell / 1984

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germinating a fear…

lacunae and interstices debilitating as 1-2-3… awful as awful can be, and slightly elevated but apocryphal after the apocalypse we walked on the littered shore of lacuna beach no word from paramaribo pam, but a fine bread crumb trail of… … Continue reading

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sneaked up…

while they’re asleep “Love what you do and do what you love. Don’t listen to anyone else who tells you not to do it.” — Ray Bradbury

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birdie num nums…

Just Chew “UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” — Dr. Seuss / The Lorax

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this way’s coming…

Corona Cantering and rolling, rolling, Sancho got them happy feet — A crown makes three by the mango tree. Riot of pink and red hibiscus — Frippery festoons his flanks — Sancho down one, Sancho up two. Writhing with the … Continue reading

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a walking husk…

Sleep of Treason I yanked myself out of REM sleep yesterday morning, and was a walking husk the rest of the day… I’d been dreaming I was in a SmartCar jammed with five other people. We were driving through a … Continue reading

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keep it ready…

Gotta, Gonna I’ll shake your hand like it’s 2019. You say you’re still living like it’s the morning of November 1, 2016. And you say: Don’t be a chop-socky soap jockey and don’t be a hegemonic purveyor of racist tropes … Continue reading

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a visual fomite…

And She Said… I don’t want my pictures ending up in a thrift store or antique shop — to have someone at some future time use my image as the cornerstone for an artwork or craft project. I don’t want … Continue reading

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love me a peasant man…

Fifteen Bashings You want Sasquatch to watch… I’m dysphoric and elipsis-phobic Dreaming of the drama at the diorama atop Lookout Mountain — shit no! Trip your mama by the squelcher and palaver at the knees of Booth Tarkington and the … Continue reading

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blood bruises and blisters…

Yaw and Jam To yaw and jam… Your paradiddles and ratamacues are killing me Don’t be here for me: Sugar Sugar and John Barley Corn Must Die Seriously? In susurrations and cackles In blood bruises and blisters Blister in the Sun  … Continue reading

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