Category Archives: 1996

When Your Room Should Have Been a Cafe

You called me an armchair poet, writing squibs, quips, grips on my life from a slanted chair that Escher himself couldn’t sit on at a time when what I needed, wanted, wished was coffee, not a warm American beer. So … Continue reading

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Reoccuring Homogenous Thought

They take it down word for word, the pearls falling from her lips, covered in spittle; straight from the mouth of the bull, the horse, the morosophic psitticist and the psuedo-synthetic, mindless robots scribble it down. “These structures were erected … Continue reading

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Dream Pools

Whisper, bedgoddess, as I rustle the covers from my head, rubbing my eyes in that harsher light to discover the treachery of the night in the pond surrounding my bed. Your susur echoes like the reflections against the wall; dancing … Continue reading

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untitled

She watched him crossing the length of the room; his dancing-spider body filling her with a sense of uniform contradiction. His long angularity disappointed the expectations that his movements would be stilted and jerky like an insect, for he moved … Continue reading

Posted in 1996, short story, unthemed | Tagged , | Leave a comment

God’s Wife’s Song (once he ran away again)

You stand before me with your heart in your hand and your eyes closed and your mouth open while you laugh. You say you see with your blinded visions and flawed perfections. So sigh, my dear, as you fall through … Continue reading

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