January 2012
11 posts
12 tags
Fugue 9 by Tomas Boudreau & Mike Thorn
1. in an otherwise indifferent and infinitely expansive ocean. He was right to throw out the poets—He was wrong to have stayed in the empire reading Tolstoy or Joyce, etc., etc., etc…] 2. Demagogue hated libraries. Sickened by silence, he wobbled to his feet belching yeast and sweating misogyny. “Nothing will change until every one of you sonofabitches—and I mean every one of you—burns...
4 tags
It seemed forever down the length of white, sun-glittering concrete which curled...
– Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men
15 tags
Distilled Scene
James and Mark walked to the neighbourhood liquor store. They bought the cheapest 26oz bottle of gin they could find. Carrying the bottle in a paper bag, they walked to the park. They spoke very little.
The park was devoid of spectacle, but it was an ideal place to drink. There, they could achieve a level of gutter-mouthed, wet-faced drunkenness without anybody giving them shit. At the park,...
7 tags
Triggered Into Fission
Ghostly sensations ice his nerves— every nightmare is characterized by the stench of this lurid brothel: cadaverous wails, tombstone orgasms, the shadow of moans. He pins phantasmal remains between blankets, eyes squeezed shut—
4 tags
To be a clown was to be fate’s pawn. The life in the arena was a dumb show...
– Henry Miller, The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder
4 tags
A man with a hangover should never lay flat on his back looking up at the roof...
– Charles Bukowski, Factotum
9 tags
Demographic Hell
That’s no conversation you’re hearing. That’s malignant memory developed in retail photo labs and bedroom walls. That’s no conversation you remember. That’s the sound of a half-closed windpipe; you didn’t hear a thing.
4 tags
To the untrue man, the whole universe is false,—it is impalpable,—it shrinks to...
– Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
10 tags
Adhesive Purity
Turn your attention to beer-scuffed lyrics on the bus seat: “manic screams are pulverized by the arrival of a C-train.”
4 tags
The real end came quietly. It came in the small, barred room where the voices...
– Robert Bloch, Psycho