it was in the morning they died. the babies all curled up and charred as the whisps of dust and smoke sauntered around them, taking the forms of their cruel gods before disappearing in the glutton's air. the riders on the horizon were watching down below and they could see their cooked, ashen skin flaking off and slowly rising; a demon's snowfall, ( Read more... )

vomited out of the ocean where the snake handlers breathe fire and drink poison and the customer with her skin disease and listerine breath speaks with the chirping of a thousand crickets. her complaints are spoken in reverse, in need of deciphering as her empty words float around her necklace of imitation pearls. two pools stranded in the center ( Read more... )

with each passing day my roommates and their camarilla burrow underneath my skin just a little bit more ( Read more... )

i'm a big fan of nick cave, so when david told me that he wrote an Aussie western and that he had a bootleg copy, I was on it like stink on a whore's crotch ( Read more... )