November 2011
1 post
Sand(shit)storm.
Sitting bleary-eyed and perched high above the blistered and scalding landscape before him, he wrapped his hand knitted scarf tighter around his parched throat. His government issued gear fit around him in such a way that when his knees were pulled up to his chest, rifle resting atop them, it appeared as though he were encompassed in a tortoise shell. The colors blended seamlessly into those of...
June 2011
1 post
Tripping! pause. Repeat!
“arizona curled up with california
then she tried to hide the whole thing from new mexico
who knew before he saw them making out in yuma
that she had been loving someone new
but california not california
how could you? the bully loved her cactus the underdog her pine
but she would only love one at a time new mexico has always hated california
and though he knew that arizona wore...
May 2011
1 post
Violeta.
That first step taken onto new land hit her in the chest with a brut force. The feeling in her lungs was unlike anything she might have imagined; the timid wisps of frigid air curling out from her nostrils and around her lips brought a childlike wonder to her eyes. The landscape was lonely. The trees wore hardly any clothing, specks of ice the night lost in its rumble with the selfish ground...
March 2011
1 post
Pride and Glory.
(With an emptying glass, and some old soul song rippling through the airwaves, it hit him. Square in the jaw, it hit him. All the thoughts he thought he knew came flying out of every pore like they were circling some great black hole and couldn’t resist its force any longer. He couldn’t figure out where the change came from or what had triggered it. What he did know was that it came for a...
February 2011
2 posts
Hilltops.
He was alone for the first time in that space that was theirs. Almost everything was the same as far as environment goes; a light mist was rolling over the tops of the canyons, a faint but adequate glow was coming from above him, and the tree lined circle of open flats swallowed him whole to keep him from the city. He couldn’t have been more grateful because the city looked especially fidgety...
sometimes…everything just fits.
December 2010
11 posts
Dream Machine.
I wonder what it means to really understand movement and time and your role within these two things. I’ve spent so many hours these last few weeks on the constant go and have placed myself in other people’s lives for varying amounts of time with fluctuating degrees of interest and sincerity. There have been obligations to meet. There has been advice to be given. There has been the need for a...
One Hundred Thousand Times.
Cigarette number fourteen (for the day) stamped out and laid to rest amongst his fallen brothers. Half empty (full?) glass of warm brandy loosely cradled in the left hand. A brain that feels like it’s been in one of those industrial sized washing machines just tumbling and tumbling and tumbling. Cold and smooth floorboards in a terribly modest single apartment in an overlooked pocket of the...
When It Comes (It Shall Come Just Right!!!).
Bzzzzzzz!! Bzzzzzzz!! Bzzzzzzz!! It woke him so suddenly that he was pulled from sleep heavy-lidded and unsure of the reality of the moment. “What the? What time is it?” he said to himself. The morning was screaming through the cracks in his blinds but he felt as though his head had hit the pillow only minutes before. He didn’t recognize the number so he let it go to his inbox. Seconds...
Lane Changes.
After what seemed like countless hours fulfilling responsibilities and being at everyone’s beckon call, his evening was finally winding down. What he couldn’t figure out was why he felt the way he did. The last few days had been quite fantastic, really, but for some reason it was missing. But what was missing? Why wasn’t he still floating up among the spires? There was some little piece that...
Cinema Club for One.
The warm and fuzzy vinyl spinning in unbounded circles on the turntable was taking him back. He’d started to get used to the open spaces and lapses in time that filled the void left by The Absence, but welcomed the disposition of the night with open arms. He felt good. He felt good because somehow, in the tangled mess of wires and electronic pulses, The Absence had figured out how to bring...
See What You See.
“Hurry up! Let’s GO!” I was in no mood to follow after him but I figured that these particular circumstances called for action. We were on the roof of Miller’s grocery with the binoculars I had lifted from the chest my older brother keeps in the back of his closet. They were passed down since my great-grandfather and for some reason he thinks they’re too important to ever touch my value-less...
Living a day as just a continuation of the ones before it is a habit I’ve grown quite weary of. When did this happen? When did I, you, he, she, it, they become so tired? When and why did the things we actually give a damn about gradually take a place further back in line? Back behind the things that have made us the terribly apathetic and self-medicating machines that we are? And more...
Which Way and When.
He stood on the metro platform counting his breaths until the eleven fourteen came lumbering down the line. If he didn’t count, everything would fall apart. If he didn’t keep his weak-kneed brain occupied his traitor heart would assume command and his Resolve would say, “Alright, old friend. I can’t hold out any longer. Hope you make it!” Resolve. What a fickle creature.
Open. Close. Open.
It was just one of those moments (her photographs would look so good on these walls) when you find yourself thinking of a life that isn’t yours. You’re caught in the ebb and flow of complete strangers (she would love this) meticulously constructing the patterns that will become the memories of things you haven’t experienced. You have become the world’s leading architect on daydreams. It’s...
Cumulus.
The Clouds enveloped the downtown skyline this morning in a restless haze. “We are here!” they bellowed. “I know you’re here,” I replied, “And you’re disrupting my view. Do you really think I woke early just to see you?” Of course, we all know, clouds are indifferent to the feelings of us wandering souls. They’ll come and go and do whatever they please with no regard for the rest of us. I...
Old Zero, New One.
She left yesterday. I woke up again in the bed that was hers. Then it felt a little like ours. Her smell will never leave these fibers, and along with that smell comes every single memory I can manage to pull from the last year and a half. And, of course, they are drenched in her. There are other memories, to be sure, but they’re clouded, less important. You immerse yourself in her because...
