On these pages I end my day. All I have seen will find its place of rest in here, amidst the precarious workings and re-workings, creations and recreations2, and the overtly copious grantings of the forlorn pen3. After the languor of the day, a time for recline is in sore need of acceptance. And I shall [...]
Category Archives: Issue #5
Starting over. Phoenix. Quarter-acre sandboxes a two-year-old wouldn’t shit in. My P.O. says it’s a buyers’ market.
Mother kept us in the basement, away from windows, as my father gathered gasoline and the matches.
“You see, the brightest stars burnt out long ago.” As she looks up, I can’t help but think what a beautiful woman she’ll never become.
(Written in Kansas City, Kansas) The city glows in the distance, Burning with the heat of a million Artificial halogen and neon stars; They burn away, perpetually, And illuminate all that might have Tried to remain hidden in darkness, But can no longer escape the light— Things left exposed and bare like wounds, For the [...]
Palimpsest was the word for today on the calendar. “Pal’imp-sest’ n. parchment, etc. with writing on top of previous writing.” Useless. When will I ever have the chance to use “palimpsest”? Yesterday’s word had been much better. Palaver. There is a definite lack of palaver in the car right now. Palaver. It has been seven [...]
Focused only on your words like a narcoleptic insomniac I rushed on, through the pages exhausted, indignant that I hadn’t read your work before. Before I cut my teeth on hillbilly heroin before I moved on up to the Devil’s dandruff before I crash landed face first into an island of tweekers, speed-freaks and a [...]
Four knees ground into a burnished red rug audibly groan under the weight of wandering eyes, hands peruse the titles on the bottom shelf of a dimly lit library fondling the spines mouthing the titles— a moan escapes scarlet, pillowy lips.
Discovering love is like playing cops and robbers, hearts chasing those who abducted their feelings- putting her into custody behind an abandoned ribcage. Thinking love is a Manhattan high-rise filled with red carpeting, when it’s a nap on the couch with John Williams conducting a symphony of snores in the background. Mistaking [...]