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Aoyama Steakhouseit was no surprise, when we got out of the cars at purple-black twilight, that another year had passed.Aoyama Steakhouse
the drafty, window-walled corridor was still a moist, deep-sea airlock, doing its best to keep out the snow grime of the parking lot, drenching us in blue lights. and we gathered on black benches, waiting for a table for twelve.
i thought about the drive to Presque Isle Beach, gull-less, the sand the same wet, old sugar, and how the waves had nipped at our eighteen-year-old feet, and caught Erin’s ankles and she almost tripped in, and whe
by ~the-looking-glass
Icicleglittering, see-through skin, bumpy as Braille, just as illegible, hanging vulgar and dripping from the peeling roofIcicle
thick, thinning bluntly to a standstill sharp tip one talon of a wall of claws, a rack of knives, keys of a splintered piano played by light
by ~the-looking-glass
almost winter at the Jakobs'it was Molly’s birthday the only celebration we observed in Germany we ate fondue off of tiny shovels and i sipped a cup of teaalmost winter at the Jakobs'
i was freezing, i had waited at the bus stop for a half hour arms wrapped around myself because my hands were already too dry and bloody for gloves, and thought frustratedly in German at the night so cold that the stars shown sharp, unanswering, and clear above the plexiglass shelter
after dinner we four sat in the living room, flimsy curtains barely hiding the seven-o-clock darkness, they chatted, i laughed, although i could
by ~the-looking-glass
Favourites
Light Linesby ~arionetic
The LiarThe LiarThe Liar
Robbie could always tell when adults were lying. Not that there was any one thing that gave it away every time, but he could tell. Sometimes they had a facial twitch. Lots of times they avoided eye contact. Mostly, it was something in their tone—a phony niceness that smelled like bathroom cleanser, like they were trying to put a shine on the dirty truth that lay beneath.
“Hey there, champ. How's the man of the house holding up, huh?” Doctors were some of the worst, those patronizing geeks. They practiced their small talk to try and put you at ease, but all they ended up doing was advertise th
by ~batousaijin
i'm taking a poetry class this semester
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- Favourite band or musician: the New Pornographers
- Tools of the Trade: black gel ink pens, unlined paper
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How come it's possible
I wish there was a way
(Suddenly) I feel so invincible
I'm the sculpture made out of clay
I need someone to break the silence
before it all falls apart
I need something to cling onto
before I break you in parts
welcome!
--
there were no good old days.
Are you doing National Novel Writing Month or whatever on Earth it's called?
My summer goes quite well. Next week I'm off to Washington state to see my brother and sister...for two full weeks! And I get to take a train through the mountains. Huh. Zuh.
And what about your summer, m'dear?
--
Ira Glass is a grown-ass man.
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WEBSITE | ArtLimited | JpgMag | Prints & comissions.
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The Exquisite Corpse:[link]
My website: [link]
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