Tag: Prose
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I look into your eyes.
I look into your eyes and I feel lonely. I see you seeing me, so on and so forth. I can’t escape myself. But, regardless, you are here. Maybe a distraction, but a sexy one. In your eyes I see the methods of my pain. I feel you slicing my thighs and torso and throat…
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Militiamen
And, when it was time to continue our march inland, it was October. On the eighth day, I arrived in an empty parking lot, emerging from the line of trees into the sterile, pearly night-time light beamed down from the overheads, still powered-up, along the southern border of the sprawl. We were fewer, then, standing…
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GRAIN STORY CHAPTER ONE
Think of me, for now, as an investigator. It’s been a while since I’ve written in earnest, but I doubt you care. I will tell my story here, trying as hard as I can to exclude unimportant bits, and including the scandalous ones for your reading pleasure or disgust. This might not be a perfect…
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tyranny
A sentence written is a sentence haunted. To write: to slice as deep as a page’s bones, to stain its fibers with that spider-eyed black, to brand its hide with the sharp searing of a thin, hot iron. A writer is a semantic sadist, gleefully preparing the tied-and-bound letters on his page for their nigh-inevitable…
