Monthly Archives: March 2012

fall texts

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Hak-Kin-Dak Mantra

I am not a fool. I am wise. I will run from my fear, I will out distance my fear, then I will hide from my fear, and I will wait for my fear, I will let my fear run past me, then I will follow my fear, I will track my fear until I can approach my fear in complete silence, then I will strike at my fear, I will charge my fear, I will grab hold of my fear, I will sink my fingers into my fear, then I will bite my fear, I will tear the throat of my fear, I will break the neck of my fear, I will drink the blood of my fear, I will gulp the flesh of my fear, I will crush the bones of my fear, and I will savor my fear, I will swallow my fear, all of it, and then I will digest my fear until I can do nothing else but shit out my fear.

In this way I will be made stronger. Continue reading

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Origin

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Trapped by a Thing Called Love

in which the Hero receives two turntables and gives his microphone. Continue reading

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checking boxes from the grave

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“The Big, The Bad” by Hillary Gravendyk

Thicket of tall signs and a leafy coolness. Footstep like a crumpled page. It isn’t prowling, it’s the secret of animals. Eye to the green air. Footstep like a bone snapping. The kind of hunger that swallows you. A scene-stealing cast of birds. Something nestled, nestling. Footstep like a mousetrap. All the smaller creatures a glassy glitter along the floor. The collective appetite of bees. Belly sown with stone. Footstep like a wind tunnel. A punishment of dogs, a grief of snakes. White promise dull on the tongue. What is kept, what is exchanged. Run or water, basket or bomb. A sharp gift for another. What big woods these are. Who goes softly there? Footstep like a fire blooming. Mouth: my heart, opening wide. Continue reading

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On

i kept thinking up ways to end this post but never how to end it. i suppose that’s how a lot of my posts go. i was thinking of starting it like

“i don’t believe in the president of the united states of america,”

after sitting through an hour of sickeningly robotic rick santorum spew vacuums of syllables, force fed drivel while waiting for so-so Korean tacos.

i also thought of starting it like

“he left a message on the wondersill, he figured somebody would think the window as clear as he did and see straight through the glass of his eyes and to the clouds of his imagination. or maybe they’d just go and dump a few things down the garbage chute.”

oh so you think you can just pillage the phonetic experimentation from your daily conversations, spin a few tops, and call it poetry? sir, i do believe you’ve been marketing for far too long.

but then i ultimately (didn’t) settle on starting it with the following:

“after the first month of dating Chelsea, Alex talked to me about how he thought she really wasn’t a right fit for me. too young, too immature, just not for me. and i laughed in his face.”

funny how Time can make just anybody a visionary. Continue reading

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this is what happens when the only author you read is tucker fucking max

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fat traffic

last year, on the second day of the eleventh month, this blog changed forever. on that day, the number of unique visitors on this site broke past 150 for the first time ever: naturally, i was curious to discover what … Continue reading

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right to your room march

SOMETIMES FOREVER sometimes i find myself a pretty little baby, who i tell all my secrets to. secrets like i do and don’t believe in the universe and like i do definitely always want to sex and like i definitely … Continue reading

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