Other Places
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The Crowns of Pluto (4.)
The trees were immense and varied, the works of genius minds and artists, somehow altered by chemical gravity to bloom quickly like a porcelain doll with animal organs. Continue reading
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The Marbles of God
I felt the breath of God in Santeeby the shores of Lake Marionthe spiders like aliensweaving webs the size of quiltswhite and silk tapestries of insect threadjungle creatures with big, black eyesand I looked to the skyovercast and clouds a boilingthe wind blew through the treetopsknocking the leftover rains from their leavesthe brush as thickas… Continue reading
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The Chronicles of Anton Chico (The Dragon)
It was as if I was somehow always on the precipice between darkness and light and could just not get my leg over that highest rail. Continue reading
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The Chronicles of Anton Chico (A Mexican moon)
Those barriers, those watch towers, those rows of razor wire are grim reminders of human selfishness, the God negative and gluttony, hypocritical pride and the suffering in its wake. Continue reading
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The Chronicles of Anton Chico (The First Instinct)
I told him I wanted to go to Juarez. He asked why. I told him I wanted to submerge myself in the various arts of indecency. He asked why. I thought about it, and I couldn’t tell him why. Continue reading
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The Crowns of Pluto (1.)
And now here I am. It’s Christmas again, and I am the only one here. All those words and directives mean nothing now because there is no one left to abide to them in my name. Continue reading
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The Hip and the Cruel
There’s a super fresh reality percolating in Albuquerque Nob Hill groovy pubs Ruby red placentas in Placitas fall from hospital skies of red brick, brown and gold and sexy satin flesh fresh as newly fallen snow on the ultra-hip Sandias cruising on Central, Montgomery or Indian School to smoke the city lights with the hobos… Continue reading
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Red Star, Blue Plate
Red stars and atom bombs, gas globes spinning in the heavens dripping flawless arms of colored smoke. Continue reading
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Mingling With the Savages
The parched, rocky landscape flew by me like a desolate nightmare. The sky so gaping wide, churning blue and cream. Continue reading
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Inclined Corners of a Yellow Map
This is a companion piece to Bite of the Oven Salesman. Cigarettes For a Saint Once I was west and with the oven selling in Omaha behind me, I set a half-empty pack of Marlboro cigarettes on the stone feet of St. Francis outside the great cathedral in Santa Fe as a sort of offering.… Continue reading
cereal after sex 