1
2 0 2

All hail, Big Mac(beth)!

The weird mascots, burger in bun,
Slurpers of the milkshakespeares spun,
Thus do go pig out, pig out:
Thrice to fries and thrice to pies
And thrice again, to bring out flies.
Ding! the burger is done.

1
5 0 5

i want to live —

in a burned book, a book suffered side by side with its identical siblings, caught aflame by those who tasted not ink but poison upon its pages —

debauchery, sin after sin after delectable sin and desire, all the things that paint temptation as the complex beast it is.  the nights are meant to be long, the weather is meant to be hot, and the drinks are meant to be utterly destroying, transformative elixirs that promise three different personalities in but one debasing evening —

me —

what i want —

is to dance with adventure and sleep with death, and to live my life by the pen of someone much more worldly than i —

la personnage principale

0
4 0 4

This is:

an experimental piece, a
way of guiding myself around a new place.

This is me waving my hands in the dark,
this is me wondering how I start. 

1
14 0 14

How to walk alone

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3
4 0 4

Scars

Prance about nonchalantly

Wearing short sleeves unaware of the scars on my wrist

I’ve grown used to them

They came to me whilst I was in pain 

And they stayed through my happiness, as a point of reference

As a reminder

Never again stoop this low

All I worry about is the answer I’ll give little Tommy when he asks

Daddy, where did you get those scars?

Maybe I’ll tell him I used to be a bear wrestler

He loves stories

1
3 0 3

Please forgive me,

I do not want you mad,

Offending you is never in my plans,

If I did something wrong,

I want to be able to right it,

So please give me the chance,

To again bring you a smile.

1
4 0 4

dust

 

dust,

dirt and dead skin cells

coating the surface of

anything and everything,

easily wiped away

with the swipe of a finger.

 

why then,

can i not remove you?

why are you still stuck on me?

have i not tried wiping you away?

have i not spent hours

upon hours under scalding water

with blistering steam

trying to scrub the traces of you

off of my skin?

my skin is run raw,

washed of color; but not of you.

you are painted;

no, plastered;

no, you are cemented onto my flesh.

all that is left of you

is dirt and dead skin cells,

dust.

 

why can't i be wiped free of you?

1
8 0 8

Voice in the Wind

I wish I could talk with you right now.


Today was a really
fucked-up-shitty-day.
And I want to tell you about it
so you can tell me,
"Sshhh.....
Everything will be ok.
Be strong.
Remember who you are.
Relax."

But your voice escapes me
in the wind;
and your face is something
I cannot see.

So I'll keep plugging along and hope that tomorrow
is a better day...

1
6 2 4

Celeste’s Dark Lighthouse

(Celeste parts 1 through 5)

the disappearance of

light was never

discouraging to the family in

the lighthouse. celeste could

see quite clearly the rocks in

the sea looked like men

carrying dangerous things and

worried only over the hem of

the dress she made, her first, and

certainly norman the cat wasn’t afraid of

birds, white or otherwise, nor

dark crashing waves.

so at night they went to the shore

***

they say cats see quite well

in dark, though norman couldn’t.

night seeing is necessary

by the ocean because waves

take up all of the sound

ears can see so of course

celeste walked carefully and

was especially observant of things

that washed up and glowed while

norman the cat pretended to be more

brave than he thought he could.

for instance, when celeste knelt his ears pricked

and swiveled and then he stepped in

her footprints while listening for clams

sniffing once, just once, at an

old jellyfish when suddenly she

presented him with several puzzling pieces

of shiny white sand dollars, and waves

crashed amongst the flexing

rocks and she squinted

“maybe i can put them together,” she

said to norman, right up close

she whispered, “maybe they are parts of the same one.”

***

celeste carefully placed them

in a shape in the sand

as she approached

the cave. the entrance was guarded by

blue glazed shells deep

as a hand and pincers armoured every

split in the rocks, colourful

weeds grew where water

dripped down and the

cave was shorter than celeste

herself so she stooped, carrying norman the cat

like thorny hand muffs above the

sudsy tide pools filled with

fractured pieces of

dark starfish which

wet the hem of her plain

white dress and seemed

to pull her feet

***

within the cave water wooshed

everywhere and was so cold

it scalded celeste’s

hands as it dripped and

her ankles were red

as radishes

“i may die someday

this may be the

end!” norman the cat

said as he squirmed

in celeste’s arms but

he purred as she leaned

to guard him from

the dripping chill.

“no you won’t,” she said.

the entrance

to the cave was

far behind them and

the sound of rushing

sea and wind from

the belly of the stones

hot and steam quieted

everything but them.

she set him down.

“see?”

norman the cat

scrunched up his body

on the balls of his claws and looked

at the cavern first

with one eye, then

both.

“what do you see?” celeste

asked her wet friend.

he shivered and stood fast

and looked clearly into

the cavern which

was full of gas and

fog and depth and 

gathered his answer:

“i don’t know,”

norman the cat said with one eye 

again closed, “what are

those?” he asked, “where does that go?”

celeste frowned and

scooped him up. a voice stopped them,

shaking celeste’s heart even

more than her radishy feet

and it boomed:

“I See Something.” 

the voice sounded like a great

groggy, gassy and angry

belly. celeste’s arms froze still

while norman the cat

crouched into her, hiding

his head as she clutched him, splashing

away backwards as best she could

“i see something.”

the cavern groaned again. softer this time

as though it didn’t know how

loud it could be with a low

moan

***

the cavern began shuddering

and shaking and celeste

couldn’t tell if it were her trembling or her eyes,

the colors and dark became

a moosh and norman the cat jumped so high

he didn’t know when to run until he saw celeste,

momentarily caught on a rock by the dress

she made herself now ripped at the hem!

it was then norman stopped.

the great mouth of the hallway to

the cavern was lined with two vast curves of yellow

and white tusks of teeth the size of which

he couldn’t see and wouldn’t believe. it yawned

while one giant eye drooped

down sadly, a bulbous dark orb and

iris which squinted next to them and the cavern

spoke. “you’ll surely drown,” the

cavern yawned, “go before me. go before

i leave. go.” it hushed, “go or go not.

or drown.” and the cave shook

as the droopy eye shut and disappeared

and things fell with great echoes

like rocks as norman the cat

turned about and stood up

on four legs

firmly, two eyes open

while celeste trembled and

worried the torn hem of

the dress she made

and became brave:

“we’ll be shortly out

of your way, mister cave,” he

chattered in his best bravest way in

the way animals say, “you never ever

hurt celeste or her dress again.”

and he meant it, though the

cavern was never

angry at celeste and norman the cat

anyway. but norman the cat

was so very brave and celeste

swooped him up and hugged him

then started to run

***

the old cavern waited for them flee

as fast as they could

out the way the came:

out the throat past

the teeth and tusks,

the mouth and

the shapes celeste

had made like ships and up the beach

past the rocks like men

carrying dangerous things

celeste and norman the

cat watched from the cliff

beneath the dark

lighthouse as the creature

crawled from the cavern and

slid into the sea with a spout

which was lit, by now, by the

sun above the waves.

 

 

1
10 0 10

A Light is Written

stars and ink they cannot mix

why copies of copies fade

before they go extinct stars a

moment longer and they span

the hours in moments dead

a light is written