NINE/ELEVEN:20 — Nothing Corresponds To Death Except Death

He wouldn’t get his first taste of Baudrillard until he was eighteen. At 6:15 a.m. on a  Wednesday precisely eight days into sixth grade, he was wearing pajamas with Pokémon on them.  He liked Pokémon. But he really liked explosions. They were fun.   The explosions on the television were not fun. Robert Mercado, some fucking … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — Nothing Corresponds To Death Except Death


…Poseidon’s Temple towers around you …The fuselage encircles you   A millennia of Atlantean tradition just another day  Empire without equal America at the end of history Today will be the last day of your life Panic grips the passengers  You gaze into the scrying pool You look out the window Chaos and terror The city … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — “YOU’VE BEEN HERE BEFORE”

NINE/ELEVEN:20 — Watching In Wait

There’s a perspective I find most chilling. One that suggests a continuity, history—motion. It’s the history that interests me less now than the motion, a view that captures a streaking, tearing trail with a sense of purpose, a destination and a predestination, the creeping culmination of an unstoppable, inevitable process: the realisation of terror. This … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — Watching In Wait

NINE/ELEVEN:20 — Baby’s First Sexually Transmitted Infection

tfw std or wtc There comes a time in every young man’s life when he looks down at his dick, takes a deep breath and thinks “should I see a doctor about this?”  You find a little lump. A little spot. A little hole. Some flaking and itching, maybe. Perhaps a little blood if you’re … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — Baby’s First Sexually Transmitted Infection

NINE/ELEVEN:20 — “American T-Shirts”

It’s dawn-dark on the left side of the map. Breakfast milk lurching in a blueish mug. My twin and I wake each day with one shared shadow only half-purposely. Mother standing in her mirror with her red-dyed curls her red-eyes. Today, let’s wear our American T-shirts. Lost cotton things in the bottom-most cubby, one goose-blue … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — “American T-Shirts”


I. And their shoulders huddledAround the springEach face leaning forwardWhite tongues lapping air They were toldThe aquifers were boneThey were toldThe soil was ground horn They banged and jostledBruised their hipsAs they moaned and kickedOver a trick of heatIn the desert Cracked lipsWere all you kissedOn the frontier II. STUDIO I lie awakeIntoxicatedAnd click repeat … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — “BOOM II”

NINE/ELEVEN:20 — “There Is a Way Out”

There is a way out I can’t see, most can’t see,   rising from the bottoms of the sands’ lowest points,  its roots and brambles, dripping leaves, my mother said  The economy said no child left behind so I climbed a tree and  dug for sand  a terrorist in the sand  the balance  —the difference between the two … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — “There Is a Way Out”

NINE/ELEVEN:20 — At Least We’ll Be Eaten Together

Ju-On: The curse of one who dies in the grip of powerful rage. It gathers and takes effect in the places that person was alive. Those who encounter it die, and a new curse is born. -- Ju-On: The Grudge The obese prism of film, protruding out of silent, black and white projection – shadows … Continue reading NINE/ELEVEN:20 — At Least We’ll Be Eaten Together