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Monthly Archives: August 2022
Judy Garland
You’ve got to make up your mind, he said. Do you want to fuck Judy Garland or be Judy Garland? It seemed my entire life would be determined by how I responded. I could tell, by the gravelly … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged black and white, childhood, color, dorothy, fragment, judy garland, oz, Prose
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Newsflash
Heaven commits the meek to memory. Amnesia forgets itself to leaven the uninhibited rise of days lusting after dreams this side up.
Borneo on Mars
There is the glass ashtray. The mangled cigarettes. The hotel room. The window open with the breeze coming in, ruffling the curtains. The breeze is lace fingers. Tiny fingers. There is the unevenly applied lipstick. The besieged housemaid. There is … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged borneo, every story, fragment, mars, mexico maybe, place somewhere, Prose
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Cherry and Claudia
She asked me to touch her. Down there. It’s been so long, she said. I feel like a coffin. Just use your fingers. I was reluctant. When she said—It’s just your hand, it’s not you—I thought—It’s just my hand, not … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged fingers, fragment, hands, sex, the sea, two women, wheneverwhyever
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As Fate Would Have It
“Fate will have it—and this has always been the case with me—that all the ‘outer’ aspects of my life should be accidental. Only what is interior has proved to have substance and a determining value.” — Carl Jung He knew … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
Tagged fate, forests, inside job, interior, internal, pathways, poem, psyche
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Sideshow
The Great Snakewalker, holding a yellow umbrella with splashy red polka dots that conjures the notion of enormous blood platelets, balancing on a tightrope comprised of tail-tied snakes with flicking tongues, descendants of Ouroboros, and she the Great Snakewalker does … Continue reading
Strange Angels
The days fly into the blue and disappear, and your mind, in its memory-making, contains the disappeared days as film archive. I want to set fire to the archive. Burn all the films. Watch the celluloid twist and incinerate. I … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged angels, blue ones, film arcehive, fragment, high priestess, mysticism, Prose
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Metronome
It doesn’t take much to become days of mourning. This world provides plenty of opportunities to convert one into days of mourning. Then days of mourning becomes weeks of mourning. Months of mourning. Years. But it begins with days of … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged grief, Prose, woman, fragment, days, days of mourning, nights
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In the Catacombs of Grief
In the catacombs of grief, she wandered. She wandered, without thirst, without hunger. This frightened her. Had she lost her basic humanity? Why had she created such elaborate labyrinths? Say that ten times fast, she said to herself. At least … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged grief, Prose, writer, creation, fragment, labyrinth, catacombs, wandeirng woman, moodspells
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Aria
You are at a masquerade ball that takes place at Club Infinity, and you notice a lonely woman standing in the corner, her entire body breathes loneliness like strange music thickening the air, which in essence thickens the plot … … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry, Prose
Tagged aria, aura, Beauty, infinity, loneliness, soul, the journey, woman
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