Hands, they betray me like dissident fiends disrupting the gradual flow and how they sting with each frosted touch cold tips, those mocking digit spears all comfort shooting pains in veins inflamed knuckles reeling protruding in rhythmic vibraphone time like a rippling wave through a crooked spine.
Category: Writing
Fear Into Pieces
A common age and a common name, how low we bow to common pains, the like mistakes dictated by complacency, familiar trembling aches decaying the root of reason, the tides of time sweeping swooning plops ashore in granite rhythm sea of the wincing stewards of change Past we roll, oblivious to the bloody sky on…
The Art of Being Heard
There are few moments in life that feel more surreal and socially awkward than those times when you’re forced to ignore the effusive confessions of a woman in love because all you want to do is purchase a carton of eggs. If you think yourself incapable of this level of indifference, then consider how many…
On Being Saved
Define salvation. The mind immediately grasps for explanations of the metaphysical, recollections of the mystical, wisps of stardust and Divine refuse, ethereal trails of holy time, thoughts, visions, majestic myths. The Divine. We all have some joker in the sky to blame for our joys and our woes, existence of flesh, the theoretical residence of…
For Ben
Stories never begin with “Once upon a time” anymore. I imagine there must have been a time when “Once upon a time” was the noblest salutation a storyteller could say to preface his tales. No longer, I guess. Compulsion urges us for constant change — and so we bend a little each time so that…
An Excerpt from My Conversation with God
GOD: It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Whose beliefs are the truest, whose practices are the most pious, and most of all, whose version of God is the most accurate? My answer to you can only be this: as in all other things relating to humanity, there is a common thread that unites…
School’s Out, Kids
My apologies for not establishing a stronger online presence this summer. I’ve been going through a large transitional period (to say the least). But I’m back now, and I’m happy to report that I haven’t run out of ideas yet. But more importantly, I wanted to let you all know that I finally have a…
But you’re not too blind to read a twenty-minute AIM conversation?
Eva: are you still writing? Kevin: yes and no… Kevin: but mostly no Eva: ?? Kevin: i took a long mental holiday this summer. but i posted something new recently. care to read a rant? http://kevzster.blogspot.com Eva: oh no, i can’t Eva: sorry….i can’t handle reading from comp screens anymore Eva: i think i’m going…
So Long, Duke
I’ve always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it’s a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don’t do much giggling. Nothing is fun when you have to do it–over & over, again & again–or else you’ll be evicted, and that gets old. So it’s a rare…
What Mumia Knows
Sooner than never they change at each stage they stage each arrangement through fictional shapes formed to fool they play with words as if nothing ever disrupted the stream of eternal monotony You can’t change what you can’t name so ignorance they teach us from an early age dressing their lies with the bind that…