You’ll know you’re entering pound-town, U.S.A. if you start to lie a lot
a friend of mine once said that [Fresh, Green Life] is My Year of Rest and Relaxation for boys.
Drug Plane
I was fifteen, then sixteen, then twenty. My high-school friend was my now college roommate. His stepfather was less mysterious but more compelling. He was having trouble with his
A recap of New York's biggest night.
We are like dogs in a dog park, smelling each other, breathing together
Part of making art is religiously making as much as you can when creatively inclined and then shaping what’s there.
We're asked to think about examples of unconscious bias and I think about the guy who goes to
Heaven but it's Chinese.
If Miami were a person, she would have veneers from the same dentist who does her Botox
Because isn’t that the true nature of love, protecting each other from our wickedest parts?
Victoria Brooks is the author of Silicone God (MOIST Books/House of Vlad) a queer sci-fi novel. Jack Skelley is author of The Complete Fear of Kathy Acker (Semiotext(e)), and Myth Lab: Theories of
Tina joins our class mid semester. Instantly, I dig her aura. She shares the relaxed gait and slow drawl of the local stoners. She wears her dark hair flat and parted down the middle and has an
The moon men decided to come to Earth because they didn’t like the way the Earth people were always staring at them. Whenever they looked up at that enormous blue orb through their telescope, the
Last spring was the last spring.
Over coffee, he told me he thought I dumped him last time because we had sex too soon.
Neither a drop of white wine into the danube canal, nor a gunshot through the roof of my mouth, but something in between
On the lawn, sprinklers bend the light with no greater purpose
It’s got good bones, everyone kept telling us. Who knows.
448.
The East German dramaturge Heiner Müller adopted Brecht’s notion of Kopien (German for ‘copying’ or ‘sampling’), the practice of regarding texts by others as material to be used, imitated,
I see them right there plain as day, two-dimensional prints, sacred geometry, my life is full of meaning.
Her umbilical right to intimacy makes me wonder if I ever left the womb.
no one can reach me you stopped drinking mined former awe
I was convinced I would die. A lone cig, maybe three gin spritzes, benzodiazepining into extinction. Ativan.
As weird and wild and beautiful and filthy as Venice Beach itself, Jessamyn Violet's new novel, Venice Peach, has everything I want in books about Los Angeles: Beautiful imagery, characters that are
I am more deserving of your love than he is. My heart beats twice the size of others.
“When we were young, we had momentum. We were winning. We were best friends. Everybody seemed to care more. Everything seemed to matter more back then.”
~ Hot Tub Time Machine (2010)
On
The pain reminds me: I am here. I am real. I matter.
I put away my matchsticks / and hammer. You remain, standing / the same as you were.
when I laugh, you perk up
like a misted lily
