We used to dream about getting a plastic ball, and now we had a real, genuine hand-stitched football. But we were too scared to even show it off.
The bitter stone on which the child bites
Outside the window are his leering cumulous. The sky is his luminous Maya blue.
The electric car, the raised foundation, the meatless Mondays.
deeply the emptiness of all things / deeper than website
a cool who-caresness (a sort of soft-edged petroleum nihilism)
dusk comes loud with everyone singing dissonance is the truth about harmony or something
The largest mining accident known to man. Carbon monoxide in a hole. Cup it with your hands
The knock had happened on one of those other days, where the date reigned over its little space on the calendar's grid, no appointments, no holiday, a day that had entered with morning and frayed into dusk but that still bore its numeral in case anyone came back to fill it with something in retrospect.
Well not only
did this coffee cost me more
than the other Subway
and not only was it a smaller
cup but look at how much
they filled it.
"I prompt: A Black woman's hand near drawer" (onscreen, I receive three fingers, two thumbs, a foot made of fingers lurking, an unseen crouching body on top of the dresser)