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Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

Ghosts of the American Highway

Tuesday, April 7th, 2009

Somberly, an unseen muse seduces a tractor trailer off the road.  The driver’s gleeful amusement at death crowns the echoes of collision.  Traffic proceeds ever onwards, through my chest, pulling my heart toward the horizon… and beyond, chasing tail lights into the dark.

We are a bountiful superpower upon the promised ancient land.

Sleek apartment Broker.

Wednesday, April 1st, 2009

I enter the broker’s office & fire-breathe onto the secretary, igniting her face.

“Be a hero,” I tell myself.  I reach through the back of her skull to grab a cold beer from the fridge and extinguish her flames.  Next, she’s gratefully mounting me…  “There’s no shame here; only chance is to drive forward into the endless fucking…”  Petal to the metal, America. You just got yourself a new crash pad.  xoxo

The cunt that walked the streets

Tuesday, February 24th, 2009

Heavy-breather…  secreting mass of conical flesh, cervix embedded just below the top.  No uterus above, unless you’re into that whole thing of, like…  spirit bodies.  Only a small knit hat.

Ah, this cunt does walk the street and knocks upon each solid door; breathing hard, dripping milky cum…  A trail of love, if you like.  Or, just a trail of pussy juice in the night.

She is a sleuth, this cunt.  The street lamp portrays a scenario by which she takes three steps within it’s light.  Steam comes off her as she passes.

The citizen who must be Un-Pried

Wednesday, February 4th, 2009

There lives a community within a spacious brain… The inside edges of this brain are made of black latex, like an inflated balloon.

A community member manages to use brute force to press upon a portion of the balloon, and expand a corner, despite the fact that no new air has been injected within.  This person has created new space within the community brain.

The individual occupies this new space, and clings to it, turning away from the community.  At a certain point, the community notices the individual clinging, with panicked ferocity, to this expanded portion of latex-brain-wall.  They must be taken down, and socially re-initiated.

It is a privelege to do expansive work.  And yet, new-found psychic space can consume a person if they insist upon remaining there forever.  Let us un-pry the community member…  if only for a moment… dinner, perhaps.

Satan at the door

Saturday, November 15th, 2008

I asked this certain guest of mine (who shall remain nameless) not to smear feces and tortured souls all over my walls when he comes over…

So, get this…

He comes over and breaks the doorbell, for starters.  So, I don’t even know he’s here.  Then he starts screaming hellfire that I’m not answering the door, and he damns all the neighbors on the floor of my apartment building for no reason.  He breaks in and grabs me by the neck with demon-hands, and I’m like, “What?”

And he’s like, “I’ve been here for half an hour ringing the doorbell.”

So I say, “No, because I was here, and nobody was ringing.  And the doorbell worked this morning when the UPS guy came, so if it’s not working now, you broke it”  So he flips out and starts smearing feces and tortured souls all over the place, just like I asked him not to, and I say “So, where’s my new doorbell, motherfucker?”- except this part I say under my breathe to myself while I make us pasta.