Tag Archives: Cut-Up Writing

Meet The Beetles! (redux) Briefly, gentlemen, it has come to my attention that there has been an inordinate amount of “buggery” going on between you and our beetles. This will not do. As of tomorrow at 7:00 am all those … Continue reading →

No Longer Required (redux) Hortensio awoke and his arms were on vacation.  A note stated that his left arm was touring the Costa Brava, visiting the sites where Joan Miró sketched a biomorphic vision or two—while the right arm was … Continue reading →

Edenic Memories During Jailhouse Enemas (redux) 1. His mother and father died when he was 15, and his first super-8 film was of chalk drawings in darkened spaces: where he imagines the poses and places where his people died. 2. … Continue reading →

Bile-Yellow (redux) I often stare into the sun. It’s the only way I know to calm down. My father required it of me when I was a young boy—he broke me early and often. He was the superintendent of our … Continue reading →

What I’m Reading: You have to learn who you are before it’s too late. The big mistakes people keep making in life—the pattern is so obvious to everyone except the people themselves. — David Burr Gerrard / The Epiphany Machine

Memorable Stuff I Read This Week Is there a bicycle culture war happening on the streets right now? It sure does seem like it, as conversations turn from differences in policy to inflammatory and, yes, hate-fuelled rhetoric. Do bicyclists represent … Continue reading →

What I’m Reading: WILL I JUST KEEP GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS UNTIL THE DAYTHEY COME ARREST ME, TOO? WILL WE LOOK BACK AND SAY“WHAT THE HELL WERE WE DOING?” WHY DID WE KEEP TRYINGTO LIVE OUR NORMAL LIVES?” “DID WE … Continue reading →

How I Became The Scarified Boy (a thingamajiggy) This takes place everywhere and nowhere at once. At the center of a spin art piece before the paint reticulates out; in manifold dusty, dark spaces; in destitute backyards choked with crabgrass; … Continue reading →