He traces lines down the page, unable to ignore a cerebral connection: there was a walk he used to take every day, a paved routine that came daily, forging his connection with pavement. The path he walked was smog-clouded, and when haze crushed out daylight, he locked eyes with misted cement. He plodded forward, hood up, postured in his isolation, pavement becoming his guide. He walked this way...
He regards a collage of teen love letters with eyes pinched red, becoming effusive from a migraine built of memories: He thrust love into her, then lifted her into lamplight. In slippery/formless light he watched her, his hands sliding down her sides. The wetness seeped into him and he lowered her to the damp mattress. He taught himself the value of events in morning, afternoon, and evening. He...
He tilts forward in the monochrome backseat, matador eyes fixed on brake lights. He is hysteria hulking in a washed-out sweater. He lives three meticulous hours inside half a minute. He is motionless but his mind is unharnessed, howling while he waits for time to rearrange. “Learn to read. Learn to speak. Learn to control your stomach and temper…” He yowls along to songs he doesn’t know,...
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An imposing man insulates TV shows on the loveseat. He colour codes commitment until afternoon becomes morning becomes night. He’s a void from avoidance, extinct in canals of muscle. Deficient diplomas stamp his walls with satire. They ensnare him while he scratches memoirs for tears that never came, a wife who never came. Months of stubble become razor burn become beard. He synchronizes nonsense...
ssemblage: Merlot →
Another masterpiece. ssemblage: Things are steadily getting worse, as predicted. He blames the syrupy booze, $10 a bottle. “It’s the wine. I can hold it together”, he says unfaithfully. “Bullshit, it’s not even 11 o’clock and you’re already about to puke” He fantasizes a ringing can be heard by all. Phone numbers, debit…
He smudged himself out on a hill to cloud-gaze today. He lapsed time while wearing her shirt. He was clairvoyant for a second and he spotted himself on the skyline. “I know” he said in her ear, “that this will go away. My skin will peel off in white flakes like snow, then rattle down the sidewalk and disappear into the city.”
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