Tag Archives: Ghosts

of moving backwards

Tzompantli The impression was one of moving down, of moving backwards, in life… BEDROOM96 high82 wide (83 wo baseboard)24 7/8 deep from baseboard(25 w/o)-no wings-1 1/2 inch top lip6’8″ (80 inches) of rod space … they called these types of … Continue reading

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pincers and gloves

Dendritic Bolus Blues (Dream at 3:38 am) Instead of changing my shirt I changed my mind and requested a reverse baptism. Get the father son and the Laszlo Moholy Ghost outta’ my body. Get ‘em all outta’ my soul. Forthwith. … Continue reading

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in our mouths

Central Smoke Bone She had grown red and corpse-like below the Danish authority standard issue yellow canopy—beyond the dune and deadwood. Nearby, crusted and congealed, many rats in hazel frozen a on twig. Bleating, and she a sheep, that sand … Continue reading

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air is burnt

The Father: Guantanamera, 2002 The sun cuts a slice of light into his head. The stellate light streams through the window and blinds him. His last word is ¡Guao! The bullet fragments in his Broca’s area and splits the infinitive … Continue reading

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slurry of words

Skronk Tectonics Plactivist—a disembodied word. Decontextualized. One word in bas-relief, that I heard her say, in a slurry of words not directed at me. Plactivist—decoupled and set adrift from its word cloud. It blazed like a meteorite across the my … Continue reading

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pronounce ypres correctly

Stumped Focus. Breathe. Here. Fuzzy wool strings. Lime green. Flayed solar flares encroaching empty space, like rabbit ears stumped. A loom undone. The Dardanelles. Where did that come from? Why now and here just before his interview? He knew he’d … Continue reading

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pick me clean

Rumbling The field full of regular hours. The strain of exposure to sunlight stark and unfiltered. It’s got me down, debased, debauched, and drunk with stolen beatitude. The scarecrows keep me kin—and if cock robin is not in Caracas I’m … Continue reading

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freed of meaning

cologne and ammonia her delicate blue-veined wrongdoingsher slender handfuls of bone shardsher clubhouse lay crushed and patheticher lathe upon her white cheetahher fragile fraction of cologne and ammoniaher frangible fiction coiffed in toxinsher old frayed cataracther daughter’s prickled shank armholeher … Continue reading

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the vise on

Laden Snow falls from a laden leadensky in oracular fashion. A foot of it.Feet swollen and carbuncular.Feet waxen and frozen solid.The vise on an unfeeling brainloosening its grip.Darkness sets in. “I am filled with snow.There’s nothing to do nowbut wait.” … Continue reading

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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

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