Fiction
No Man’s Land
Bloated clouds float above the prison, obscuring the sun. I linger outside the narrow cell window, which is no more than a barred gap in
Popular Experiment
*synth beats* bright plastic blue screen green screen *auto-tune screams* chunky glasses tuned-in apathy *boy band* drive fast die young pretty corpse *twangy guitar*
Cold Lights
Outside my window there is steam
and there are lights in a skyscraper
where people sit at their desks
and the lights let them work.
Four Brothers
He’s the sweet taste of strawberries on fluffy shortcake, with eyes that reflect an enormous Heart that’s displayed prominently on his sleeve.
A New World
While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a
Opposable
How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely