Tag: Creative Writing
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There was a heart in Central Park. It was lying there in the curled leaves and the grass saying goodnight.… Read more.
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He made it with her in the bathtub because she was bleeding. That animal. That gyrating, groaning animal. It was… Read more.
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These nerves are voiceferous and restless, like a baby with Batman, a highball hangman, make them speak, red walls with… Read more.
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A long morning yawns its mallow yellow yawn out there on the grass where the trees and the heart live,… Read more.
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And there I was, raspy as a ghost lost in time, so drunk on the night that I tried to… Read more.
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He had a wandering image that followed him, something about ravioli in a lonely café somewhere on the other side… Read more.
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Broken wanderers. Space mice. Toe signals. Crap melons. Divided thesaurus. Purple dinosaurs. Egg cabbage. Lettuce wraps. Feet sores. Mice house.… Read more.
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Harpooned harlequins cascade like dominoes in the limelight trick of light down on the piccadilly row of southern Santa Monaco… Read more.
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Magda Balls looked at her two new guests, her back was up against the stove in the kitchen, a cigarette… Read more.
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You, again. The erratic sidewinder in plaid. Going apeshit over a loaf of bread. Have you ever heard of tranquility?… Read more.
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I built a chair today in my workshop I made it out of milk skin and aggression God was my… Read more.
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Time is all nonsense now, like purple wine in a gravity-free cathedral. Jesus and his sex dolls are just spinning… Read more.
