( fits )

Chapter 12: Window Trap

She watched the window, and the window watched the land go by, projected the land on its’ backside.  And she saw it all.  Future and coffee and running at full speed, the rungs she leapt up in order to get here, so many things.  She had left her Frankenstein back at Stanford, where he was writing a thesis.

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Chapter 11 is a short story in itself about an encounter between Neptune and Poseidon.  Possibily to be elaborated.

Chapter 10: The Cereal Bowl

The gods of America sat in a circle, cigar smoke wafting up from the circular cherry wood table.  They were playing cards.

“Double patriotism.”

“Trumped.”

“How?”

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Chapter 9: Knees

The entire world had become muffled, the aftermath of a white, molten sound.  The water had become heavy, alien, the blues had hideously curdled into shades of gray and yellow, and it was as if death had bared its’ naked self upon his mind.  The whale had never known snow before, but felt something similar to being ( Read more... )

She left inside an overcoat.  She left, and that was all.  She left with my walking out the door, she left, she left, she left.  It is a reoccurring thing, under layers of sleep.  It always stars with the closing door, and walking into the unknown city, accompanied by woken motion.  I stared at the closing of the night, when dawn stirred, almost ( Read more... )

The redirection of morning, the towering man at the gate, the crazy Appalachians towering, the swords swearing on their hilts.  Then they stab into the ground by the stroke of their heels, oh God, here comes the rain, here comes the rust, the eventual decay into something like dust.  The blurring lines, the blurring teeth, the shreds are all ( Read more... )

Chapter 8: Bird Talk

Ollie stood on the banks of a wide and strange river.  Compelled to take a swim, he jumped out of his boxcar and ran down to the water.  He waited until the train passed, and for the first time in many hours, Ollie found himself in quietness.  He closed his eyes, listened to the great sound of nothing.  Well, it ( Read more... )

The road, the road, the foolish net, the people caught and dragged along with it.  With sunlight and dust, the bucking hitchhiker shoulders his soul down the spindly highway.  What talk, what talk, what balance beamed through footsteps, what lark unleashed and came to me, and wept.  I am what I am becoming to be, a sea, a stranger leapt by way of ( Read more... )

I become the sheen, the wreck and the quiet.  I become the fifteenth time this month that somebody has been divided.  The weekend swells up, tells me that it is moving out.  The lime is bringing itself to a stiff curdling with the veins inside.  Grief come alone, or do not come at all.  I will not have you here with anger and confusion involved.  ( Read more... )

“Clarity will kill you, kid.  Best to keep things nice and… what’s the word?  Ambiguous.  Nice and ambiguous.  My best advice is to not think, and do what you’re told.  You get more killing in that way.”

“But… what if I don’t want to kill?”

The man had a brain.  The man had hands.  The man had killed, and killed with part of ( Read more... )