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Tag Archives: Death
the scorpion grass
Amphora Gaze I ask you to forget me in the wane of noon—I immediately regret it.The dusty sills; the empty glasses; the half-stuttered graces. I look for us in the scorpion grass by the haunted sculpture garden.Darkness obtrudes our daylight … Continue reading
Posted in Writing
Tagged Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Death, Drama is the Opiate of the Masses, Dream Notation, Experimental writing, Flash Fiction, Ghosts, Hybrid writing, Microfiction, Painting, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Post-Apocalypse, Prose Poetry, Random Sights with Signs, Writing
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a kind thought
Celibates and Paraphiliacs Sustain yourself with necro-normative inclinations, make use of what you consume, trap your inner child in an iron maiden. Spend time with your inner critic’s internal monologues parsing the sections of your Id with a rusty chainsaw … Continue reading
Posted in Writing
Tagged Chance Operations, Creative Writing, Cut-Up Writing, Death, Drama is the Opiate of the Masses, Dream Notation, Experimental writing, Ghosts, Hybrid writing, Microfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Poetry, Post-Apocalypse, Prose Poetry, Random Sights with Signs, Writing
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sold us all
black matte spray collimate ii. at the museum of digest feminismBoccaccio quotes have been stricken thru the time to digress was then—sometime in the 14th century wrought in yersinia pestis yellow and arte della lana blue— centuries before its gabardine … Continue reading
someone muttering bummer
Jodhpurs & Jujyfruits There are blocks everyday. People die everyday. There is gothic organ music swelling and ebbing in the ether. There is someone muttering “bummer” nearby and the smell of acrid pot wafting on an eddy of warm wind … Continue reading
Posted in Writing
Tagged Butthole Surfers, Chance Operations, Collage, Creative Writing, Death, Dream Notation, Experimental something, Experimental writing, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Ghosts, Hybrid writing, Microfiction, Paranoiac-Critical, Poetry, Post-Apocalypse, Prose Poetry, Random Sights with Signs, Writing
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cold and liminal
Ossuary (Haiku) Ossuary hall—A muzz of dry voices rasp—Cold and liminal. “The garden’s lilies have started to rotSo who is the corpse being carried from the house” — Guillaume Apollinaire / “The Lady”
Posted in Writing
Tagged Creative Writing, Death, Dream Notation, Ghosts, Haiku, Paranoiac-Critical, Photography, Poetry, Random Sights with Signs, Writing
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endless looping funhouse
Overheard After Obsequies Yes, I was lonely. But now I think things will improve… I woke up with eyes on my hands—double vision in continuous lap dissolve. I’m looking at the eyes on my hands as they look back at … Continue reading
rounds to make
Work Darkness begat a childHis name was DeathHe had rounds to makeAppointments to keepAnd so he went to work “You have to act as if it were possible to readically transform the world. And you have to do it all … Continue reading
Posted in Writing
Tagged Blackout Poetry, Creative Writing, Death, Photography, Poetry, Writing
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