Aaron Echoes August
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Ghouls
Picking awkwardberries from the tree of life A subway car injects the city with shaking souls Human fluids in the test tube With windows and lights and broken dreams and cataclysmic days Green and amber are the aching colors of another dark noc (night) Round heavens bloodied with tar Heroin tracks are stars Red forests… Continue reading
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Corn of the Aliens (2)
Harold jumped up and ran outside. The screen door slammed behind him as Bruce Springsteen music played from the clouds. The stars, hidden by the grunt of daylight, were there in the pointed universe. He made his way across the warm grass of the yard. He opened the gate on the white picket fence and… Continue reading
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Red Toast
Red toast and tequila in a dust storm on the far reaches of some blown out city in the desolate west. Liplock, Tejas. The land of dirt and death. Treeless scrapes and scars. Pitchforks, boredom. Hot houses and hay fires. HP butterheads play Roman soldiers. The sun is relentless. The decay is precious and accepted.… Continue reading
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Dance for Armageddon
I have licorice guts. Seemingly endless balls of fire, balls of fortune telling. The osprey float. Warm coffee in the desert. 112 degrees out there today. I had to take an ice bath in a crystal tub. The doorbell rings, incessantly, at the most inappropriate time. Everyone wants to talk to the wonder man. The… Continue reading
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And the World Looks Away
Vibrato shattered shells Mortal coils unwound The dirty veil of the Earth Chokes on its own existence They are coming from the stars The ancestors of faith To bludgeon the black souls of the inept And the people take pills In hopes of some relief From the wrong way they live The inside-out dimension Where… Continue reading
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Corn of the Aliens (1)
There’s the smell of something sweet coming from the kitchen. Corn dogs. Corn bread. Corn Flakes. Cornmeal. Corn on the cob. Corn chowder. Corn pie. Corn on the moon. Corn in space. Corn of the aliens. It was a hot, burning day. One of those days that feels like one walked into a blast furnace… Continue reading
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The Tick
A man named India felt like a voodoo doll the morning of his electric birthday. The pinpricks stabbed at him like tiny little swords. He wasn’t feeling right in the head. Something about turmoil and fissures cracking open like in the Earth itself. The steam and liquid magma were leaking out inch by inch and… Continue reading
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Industrial Forest
Blankets of rain seed the important information of the day. Massive zeros invade my mind. A machined white cloud dangles in a black sky. Wagon tracks through a green field stretch to the horizon. No wagon in sight. A gray weathered house cradles tortured dreams inside the bell of a tortured mind. Tortured by the… Continue reading
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The Oblong Warlock
Thirteen minutes to fill a capsized void. A laundry list of worry as the clock ticks in some kitchen bluebird hung neatly in the window and looking out onto the pleasant yard. Gas jaw dryer waits alone in the basement. Grandma’s caw caw like a crow beckoning me back inside. But I don’t want to… Continue reading
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The Latvian Eye Clock
I stare at a blank mind. The paint has run dry. I have no color in which to recite the words of a Latvian king. The clock is a dot, numbers all nonsense like anti-gravity wine in a spaceship. I feel as if I need to bang my head against an ancient Peruvian wall to… Continue reading
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