“FROM THE LOOK OF THINGS”

gnarled antediluvian branchesglaring upon the wild and uninhibitedcrumbling beneath the measured weight of timemaintaining their estates of immaculate splendorcasting shadows of departed grandeurI, last of the despondent disconsolatewandering without purpose in the dust of the spectralacquiring shades of melancholyand disconnected fragments of discourse,slipped from the unwilling tonguein the ungoverned mania of vehemenceshrouded in the Cimmerian … Continue reading “FROM THE LOOK OF THINGS”

“THE RED STAINED PORTRAIT”

The portrait at my breast, tattered and creased,reminds me of the city that I know—the Lanzheron, not unlike Galveston,transfigured by sunbeams, bouncing off the sea,the waters I will never meet again,never to clink Baltikas on the sand,militia muscles glittering in the wet,and she who brought retarded joy in sun. She liked my cooking and my … Continue reading “THE RED STAINED PORTRAIT”

DATING MY SHTICK

I’ve known my shtick for a while now. It was never a good friend — we’d never called one another up to grab a coffee or beer — but I could always count on it to help me meet new people (though most of those relationships failed to blossom). My shtick was obviously very well … Continue reading DATING MY SHTICK

OUR TORTURER

What happens when you succeed in eliminating most ordinary crime? That is, crimes of profit, of passion, of desperate survival? Almost wiped out. The crime stats are way down. The commissioner’s happy, the mayor’s happy, the courts are happy, and their corporate sponsors are as pigs in shit. However, when those crime numbers dwindle down … Continue reading OUR TORTURER

“FUNHOUSE” – “WITHOUT REPRIEVE”

Funhouse Do I write like an Ashbery now, two feet on the careening windowsill? You could watch my lymph nodes swell to burst into relief. I believe in everything I’m told. Watch me origamically unfold like a bionicle. Surprise will wipe the smile from your tennis ball eyes. You’re right to take them off me … Continue reading “FUNHOUSE” – “WITHOUT REPRIEVE”

THE CRYSTAL PHALLUS

On a grimy sidewalk outside City of Paris department store, a girl wandered back and forth at dawn on the first day of Spring. Her feet were bare, her skin pale, as if whitewashed. Nervous eyes darted from face to face. Atop her cropped red hair rested a crown of woven apricot shoots. She wore … Continue reading THE CRYSTAL PHALLUS

OUTSIDE NOISES

He woke up a couple of hours ago but his routine on weekends is to drink a light cup of coffee, read a chapter or two of the book he’s reading, scroll Twitter, then get back in bed a little later and get some more sleep. He gets back in bed and shuts his eyes … Continue reading OUTSIDE NOISES

NOISE: A HISTORY – WHITE NOISE

excerpted from Beta Testing the Ongoing Apocalypse by Tom Kaczynski *** -- Tom Kaczynski is a cartoonist and a publisher. He is the author of the award-winning Cartoon Dialectics series, many essays on the comics medium, and the forthcoming Trans Terra graphic novel. Tom K is the founder of Uncivilized Books, a boutique publishing house … Continue reading NOISE: A HISTORY – WHITE NOISE

“GROCERY STORE PHANTASY” – “LAST SUMMER BOZZUTO CONSTRUCTION FED A DRAINAGE PIPE THROUGH MY LOCAL PARK”

Grocery Store Phantasy My salmon steak heart, alive, swaddled in plastic,beats slow and soft to the touch,bubblegum pink methylmercury lust. You rainbow trout, with a pearl in your mouth,could I have caught you diving for oysters?Stirring up sediments when the stores are all closed. I dream of crabs in cages (underwater),I dream of magpies who … Continue reading “GROCERY STORE PHANTASY” – “LAST SUMMER BOZZUTO CONSTRUCTION FED A DRAINAGE PIPE THROUGH MY LOCAL PARK”

BEACH BODY

Jenny had her choice of parking spots that time of the morning. Literally the crack of dawn. Darren was capable enough to give the girls their breakfast. She had no expectation of coming home to a clean and tidy house, but it allowed Jenny to spend the early morning walking along the beachfront in order … Continue reading BEACH BODY