Monica (Hera Lindsay Bird)

Monica Monica Monica Monica Monica Geller off popular sitcom F.R.I.E.N.D.S Is one of the worst characters in the history of television She makes me want to wash my hands with hand sanitizer She makes me want to stand in an abandoned Ukrainian parking lot And scream her name at a bunch of dead crows Nobody… Continue reading Monica (Hera Lindsay Bird)


Happy memories

Under an old oak tree a husband slaps his wife’s ass. She turns her head over her shoulder, peering down at him from the slope they both lie on. “Did you like that?” he asks in a silly voice. She narrows her eyes, looking annoyed. He does it again. “How how about that? Did you… Continue reading Happy memories

A bogan art film called Wasp Uncle

No one dares talk to the titular character because wasps fly from his mouth when he opens it. He would cry about it but is afraid wasps will fly from his eyes. Stan likes to insinuate that everything Mike enjoys is like that in some way. When Stan sees a circular patch of dead grass… Continue reading A bogan art film called Wasp Uncle

Another hedgehog, another horse

A tiny hedgehog peered through the fog, upon the majesty of a white mare grazing in a clearing nearby. A vision flashed before him— of leaping upon her broad back and riding her out of the forest— straight into some new story, entirely. As the horse turned, he imagined her throwing him from her back… Continue reading Another hedgehog, another horse

Your door

I came round today, but when I reached your door I balked... went and sat where we’d drunk down the block, and I thought, I hadn’t come to see you, but to return to a place we were at when my ears were still smooth, and the hairs on yours were still black. A place… Continue reading Your door

The continuing case of the gigantic cinnamon and sugar pretzel

PART ONE HERE In truth, the pretzel thing didn’t mean anything. Or so Laurent thought. It had honestly never crossed his mind to offer Mike some of his pretzel. But at this point, it had come to symbolise something much larger, drawn into fiction. Fuck it, he thought. When he arrived back at his desk,… Continue reading The continuing case of the gigantic cinnamon and sugar pretzel

For my next trick…

my heart is a ventriloquist... “I love you!” thrown over a shoulder “excuse me?” I approach to clarify... a face turns back, all horrified, eyes wide, recoiling... “I love you!” heard again from over there... I spin! this time a figure turns to hold me, sobbing; her heart is into magic, too —an escape artist!… Continue reading For my next trick…

Are you seeing anybody?

I saw you and looked again I turned my head and followed you you were somebody and I wanted you to see me you saw me following and looked again you turned your head and followed me back I was somebody and you wanted me to see you we found ourselves while following each other… Continue reading Are you seeing anybody?

This space

this absence holds a shape you might fit here this space seems shaped for you those sounds the words they produce those things that come from you the frequency you emit the contradictions that come from your body betray your shape every moment in your presence seems like a culmination these things that leave you… Continue reading This space

What we touch

We inhabit what we touch I pull you into this shape for me What we touch inhabits us I push myself into this shape for you