The wind howls outside with all the operatic gusto of a new Scott Walker EP.  The gunshot blazes through my ear and I black out. I did it. I actually did i— “I’d love to kill myself like Kurt Cobain. One shot--dead. What a great ‘fuck you’ to all the dumb humans.” “Don’t you like … Continue reading FINAL CUT


"Way Lost" by Kim Dorland The only memory I trust is that of the sunset. The other things, they’re fragmented into a million broken pieces, all of them too sharp and deadly-bright to fit back together again. She had a pink balloon tied around her wrist. I remember what she sounded like when she screamed … Continue reading WITNESS


I knew no one at the exhibition had come to see my paintings. They had come to see the paintings of Mike Apel, 30 and rich, some of it his daddy’s, sophisticated enough to not find himself struggling near the bottom rung. He huffed the faintest fumes of legacy. The Apels were from South Africa … Continue reading SICKNESS