swallow

Some kinda store. Little Bit took off as much as she could chew. What was her purpose so to do. The red book back was broken and quite mostly paper-maiche. In look, not essence. Essentially a book and no longer readable. Tragic, were it not for the hope of recyclables. Postconsumer waste repurposed, like even after she got through mashin’ the shit out of it, too! Who? Little Bit, pumpkin shopping in September, true true.

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milky ways last forever

milky ways last forever

Here comes the full moon. Our street probably won’t get any kids on Halloween, we never do. There’s only one side of the street with houses, the other side is a park and a school. It’s a raw deal to walk down a street with only half as many houses as the other streets, you’re liable to get only half as many treats. I don’t blame them at all, hell, if I was a kid I would avoid our street like the plague. Most of the kids around here, the ones who really know what’s going on, go up to the Fabulous 40s on Halloween. The people live up there are all politicians, doctors and lawyers, CEOs and stuff. I mean money. They probably drop a K on Halloween decorations like it’s nothing. Gimme that giant spider there. That drone, I want that witch ona drone. Can you gimme all the mummies you got in the back, please? They need a goddam assistant to open the warehouse doors in the back by the alley, just to unload all that crap into the SUV. Mummies coming out the sunroof! Amazing. Will you take a personal check? They probably have stamps for signatures they write so many checks up there in the fab forties. Ya, if I was a kid I would hit that for sure. Bring a Macy’s bag or something, cause they’re liable to drop the kitchen sink. Don’t bother coming around my block. My neighbor says he still has candy from last year he’s planning to use, just in case anyone shows. Maybe two years old now, he can’t remember. Snickers bars don’t go bad, anyway, all those damn preservatives. Milky ways last forever.

me and my pumpkin

I ate a pumpkin seed whole without chewing and a pumpkin grew off of the vine that pushed out of my navel. I was very surprised but not shocked because of the season. The pumpkin turned orange and I had to drink a ton of water to get it that color. I really felt dehydrated and drained but my pumpkin looked grand so I felt better though I looked terrible. The people who used to be my friends wouldn’t talk to me no more or go to the clubs with me looking like that, dragging my pumpkin behind me. Cars got really angry, well their drivers did, they made their cars honk at me and my pumpkin crossing the streets. We were in the crosswalk, okay, so exercise a little patience, people. Only the children seemed to really like me anymore, and they followed me and kicked it with my pumpkin. After Halloween my pumpkin and I sat sorrowful at the dinner table, as I prayed for guidance. My pumpkin spoke to me through the vine, I swear, it told me it was okay. I know you think I’m crazy but you all stopped coming by anyway, so what would I care what you thought anymore? And don’t even try. When the kids circle round, we will celebrate the season and eat pumpkin pie. You won’t be invited and that’s why.

number 4

number 4

I thought i was pretty damn cool and i didnt have a cigarette hanging off my lip and i hadnt died by 27 like all the rock stars, no, the stars are bright the stars are light the stars come out tonight and its fresh after the rains and i think im pretty cool but i don’t rock the latest iphone or anything, i don’t even broadcast on Instagram, the night is here and these quiet hours are mine all mine, cause im feeling pretty righteous but i dont subscribe to no religion, no, i got my own apartment and im an independent woman and an independent author, i think im pretty cool but im not on any bestseller lists, i think im pretty sweet but you wouldnt wanna cross me, no, i dont own any guns im no Hunter S. Thompson but i do believe in civil rights, ya, i dont drink or carry a medical maryjane card, i light up pumpkin candles and let my cats run free, but ive learned im only as capable as i believe i can be, ¬†ya, you and me can only make it if we give it our all, dripping wet with paint off the canvas in the hall, i think im pretty cool, but not because of anything i have or anybody you think i am, no, i like to keep my blood pumping and circulating through the web, call it an obsession and it might be in my head, but if the motivation is to shine a light for anyone in the darkness, the hope, and these long early hours of quiet and calm so the life i have lived which has by no means been nice can channel through me to the distant lands where life is something terrible and senseless, and someone needs some help or to know you’re not alone, to find you and discover your story of survival- of dreaming- of reality- of you and me together through the thick layers of media glaze that keeps us groping in the haze, our heads held high, uncool, unfashionable, looking like losers getting old, feeling like freaks, impoverished on the streets sometimes, depressed for fuckin weeks, without a friend in the world, burnin through bridges and pages and pages, ceaseless in our inquiry, agnostic to the core, fighting for the mystery, in love with number 4.