Content
Category
poem for bob in lost in translation
is she your pink haired psychopomp and circumstance
Rebirth
The man who collects souls yelled, “Hey, I have another bag,” and I ran over to take it from him. It was my turn.
Treatment
December 23rd.
My bedroom. Four o’clock in the morning.
The Remedy / Slug Face
Halfway up the hill to Middleton, near to where I had once disposed of a rotten fox skull, I beheld a stationary Fiat Panda with its hazard lights on.
Misery Loves Company – June 4, 2021
The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.
That Which Has Come Down
The point in time everyone sees me at is just after 10:30 in the morning of May 19th, 1998, but I am from the future, from later that day, around 3 in the afternoon.
Fluppies
Things were burning everywhere outside. I took this as an opportunity to get reacquainted with my body.
Are You Thinking About it?
a rope
A stroll / Nina, Viktor, Giuseppe / Who ARE you, and an epitaph
An ugly pair
He’s nervous she depressed
He’s playing with their two bottles of water
Misery Loves Company – May 28, 2021
The above video is an archive of the latest edition of the Misery Loves Company social reading series.