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He looks at his watch as the clock balloons float him over the barren land But no land is completely barren Even barren means something A scrape of desert, a scorching salt flat, a burned forest Seemingly ugly can be beautiful Even Texas at twilight There’s a fine mist in the sky The air is humid, thick, sticky Clouds gather like a snowball They roll in their gray wakening slumber The Time Man’s head feels lost, almost empty but so full at the same time it could lead to bursting…
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At the large house at the end of the block that serves as an apothecary and home of a weird man named Fielden Mousen, an ogre sits atop the chimney and stares out at the smoke-rimmed world around him. Fielden is riding in the tiny elevator, and the house has an elevator because it is so tall, red, and rickety. Red like the color of dirt-strewn beets fresh from the earth with black trim and loads of windows and balconies. A chrome rooster serves as a lightning rod so Fielden…
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Carousel-lighted crickets sparkle like breath gone astray Birds of flight spinning the tune: It’s hard to be happy when you’ve ruined your life Oatmeal at a diner in the desert, sugar, a small silver pitcher of cream Reflections of firetrucks racing to the scene At Casino Celebration Gambling configuration Las Vegas booms like the truth Barbarian Bohemians sell slippers on the street The Boulevard of Broken Hearts remembers me I see a cyberbully in his kitchen crafting robots out of chicken bones My travelogue is too thin I need to…
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Prince Hawkwind of Leafdom stood alone in his private garden. He looked down at the stone pathway. The spaces between the pieces glowing green with moss. The sun was shining and some of the light fell onto the leaves there and they cast foreboding shadows at their edges. He knew this was the day that they would likely take him away. Even now he wondered why he hadn’t been locked in his room. The prince looked up at the sky. He wondered if he’d ever see clouds again. He fisted…
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Exodus Tangier stood at the precipice of a freight train as it rushed through the night. The tracks ahead ran straight like a zipper, trees leapt up on either side, trees like blue spruce, dark and embodied with a scent of Christmas. The wind poured across Exodus’ head. He was crying. Something had made him so sad that he was now considering snuffing it. He wanted to snub the stub of himself into the ashtray of the wilderness until his flame of life was extinguished. Exodus Tangier closed his eyes.…
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Sometimes I don’t want anything to do with anything I feel blank The pencil tip is broken I’m in prison Sitting on the edge of a bunk Someone else above me is snoring I can’t escape Always noise, constant clamor I can’t stand noise Noise makes me shriek inside There’s a sandwich that looks like a farm Fields of ham and a barn of pumpernickel Has my mind split? Mayonnaise clouds And the buns are hills I’m thirsty for coffee As I sit and smoke and think about life How…
cereal after sex 