the leftover coffee and toast issue
nudes 1 - au dela du paraitre
by Jean Vallette
Sometimes I can feel the inside of my head, right along the temples. Certain objects resonate there—a metal fork, for instance, makes a sound that is like a squealing tire.
There is but an unsuturable gash (not that far off, come to think of it) where the sunset should be—where their prefatory bullyragging has led you to believe it must be. You try to forget your newborn celebrity.
creation is a wound Luria said
and the void cried tzim tzum
and everything follows from that
Maguire held Baby up, under her arms, facing forward while he leaned over her. He moistened his lips, and with his cavernous mouth wide open, filled his mouth with the crown of Baby’s head.
Since then a lot of changes like w/o consent impregnated w/ a child who stuck around 8 years more or less then chose to live w/ the source of sperm ...
People from three counties flock to see
the man who folds his wife like a pocket knife
A mouth to emit the
groans in time by item, an angry mite or a moth that leaves a sound like
snow on air. Why is it insects evoke for me intersecting sound and ears?
Proceed to countersign my warmth
and you will automatically receive enunciation in the wound of
indoor-outdoor carpeting of anti-sacrifice.
Before they were out of sight, she
sat down and pulled him with her. She kissed him sloppy and hard. The
feeling of being unkissed and then kissed suddenly felt small and she kissed
as if she had been doing it at home ...
This your substance;
limb for wing, womb for chalice.
These your hands, a magnet for a pilgrim's
industrial land in a mountain
of cheap code.
david hunter sutherland
I'm tapping now —
that gives lawyers that creepy
bullet-sense of significance.