After Image

Splintering, alternate realities come to you just around the bend, like a train down a subway tunnel, lights shining, horns blaring, but it’s a doppler effect–sound warping before and after, and what it feels like to realize that the thing is never really the thing. It’s experiencing a population bottleneck, soil polluted, seeds ungrowing, waters fetid and stationary. It’s going away, always away, to find … Continue reading After Image

Sliding

Pet the cat. Thoughts coalesce when you pet the cat. It’s tactile, like a grounding method or something. You read that somewhere. Where did you read it? It’s lost. Do something. Touch the fabric of your shirt, smell the inside of a melted candle, but don’t touch the hot wax to your nose. Or maybe do. Maybe that’ll make you remember more. What are you … Continue reading Sliding

Anagram Days

Days like magnet letters on a dusty refrigerator, speckle stains of barbecue sauce and ketchup like culinary crime scenes as an animal collects leftovers from where they’ve fallen–from a midnight sandwich or sunrise coffee-and-bagel. You can learn a lot about someone from the stains they leave behind. It’s collecting bruises in a ten-dollar-a-class dojo, swishing trial size mouthwash in the dojo bathroom because it always … Continue reading Anagram Days

ETHEREALITY

The world alone in a tiny bubble, no sounds to escape through the infinite darkness. A hand cradles the orb, iridescent and calm, a flitting touch for a fitting contact between us all. Down over beyond is a man floating alone in the remnants, scared and tired. He doesn’t see the boundless and bare. He doesn’t see the ethereal and aware. But as that hand … Continue reading ETHEREALITY

I REMEMBER

I remember Toy Story on Ice. I remember the dollar store, and games on floppy disk, and toy guns that broke within the day. I remember accidents. I remember warheads, and Pokémon trades, and pizza lunchables. I remember Doom. I remember snow days, and Wolverine’s blades, and hot wheels cars that went vroom. I remember recess. I remember box tops, and baby bottle pops, and … Continue reading I REMEMBER