You step through the newly-unlocked gate into a market place that looks several decades older than the world you just left. Adjusting your top hat against the glare of the sun, you peer around at the little stands selling fresh fruit and vegetables, and the strange assortment of people who gather around them. Luke tugs…
Creative Writing: Trust In My Paranoia
I’m trying so hard to look for the normal. Holding onto the tiles in the shower I have to remind myself that this is real… this is real. But my brain is working against me. Carting up images of the night when I lost me. I feel the imagination in my veins work itself up…
Creative Writing: Michael Caine
Michael Caine’s turtle neck of lust presses itself tentatively against the damp screen rock and roll I cock back the gun getting fucked has never been so fun poignant as a dog-eared page e e cummings, no doubt, and my hands move small the dimensions playing musical chairs my body fumbles 4 walls, why would…
Creative Writing: Untitled
Paris in the springtime and the whole city snaps from a flagpole I am not your rose or hyacinth girl Stop comparing me to flowers I want to be more than representation (for your disposal) Don’t April me or carve broken images round my hair rustling sweet nothing to the roots make a sword of…
Creative Writing: Untitled
(i) vodka shot eyes: and the moon replies without warning, waiting for her Orpheus hardly there, fashioning rings from her red, red hair (ii) she was a meadow; taste of heather rattle of bone he Decembered her with marzipan lips and moans (iii) his arms howl like raindrops among the hailstones
x+y=z
there is something of an “x” about you a cracked circle ancient exoskeleton sharp against bluish glass womb of the world the world is we not you crystallized lips pricked cardinal sine are not in accordance with those interlocked boxes separating tongues your parenthesis silence me this orderly, humble bisected heart tucked into infinity glimmering…
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