Got any book recommendations?
THIS IS FICTION has potential, lead in needs to be tightened up, best para is somewhere around the end. Gonna call her Mel. And its about Mephisto vs. Existential lobotomies. Not lobotomies – be conscious, this is serious stuff. I have clowns and bears. that overtake me. hmm. Clowns insert jest that is oppo –…
CHARS are sitting here right underneath go in search for them, cut out the latin grammar, see if can translate into present tense, go in on char. Being broke was a kind of suspension, a privileged disease. Its needs so intransigent, brutal, endless. Its hunger a rage of demands that provoked a wild restless vanity…
Language bandied with mock cackling suffusion. Cal thought: emptiness learning how to bleed.
Stoppers Lucy switching television, falling into sleep where plays over porn and wantum random thoughts in and out of swoon ocean drifts, curse of the perched. Agatha snorts searching for “tremors” in semiology. The endless defenseless ramps to replete. Lucy says shut up. Be gentle. Fort Knots Lucy wants Hieronymus to collaborate. Be undead. Cold…
Making inroads into discussion about methodology. On the phone can to can. Love the strings. Plays it again, no sooner as begins, becomes infected with beauty and reckoning. Mists of plunder wonders savage playful bold and sorry gusting plussage, sorrow & dole. Lust and bust. Victim and scold. Wonder & scorn, laces. At bottom of…
story about two American rich kid survivors with parents who are shooting victims Christa thinks time is timeless. Every moment hangs like an empty chair on a wall, ready to fall with fate. Precipice and what’s left, empty and dangling. Beauty peers out at her, a devious acquaintance. What she sees of herself, fascinates, as…
Beginning of Something Tongues her. Dizzying, like a smelt of grace. His fingers drag across her skin, her skin a raft of shirkey murky lurking sin. Angels make waves. The unseen and the unnamable thing, drifting off into beauty and violence and the absurd up her cunt. It astonished her unduly that the drain of…
Bridge of Signs Because to try and do so makes Pinky crazy. Even just to think about it. And she can’t control what that does, to herself or other people. Stinky is a death star. And the hatred that erupts from Pinky’s not being able to overcome its hold over her – its glorious ring…
Whippoorwills Two words: slavery and freedom. Spark like a train whistle blowing high and stark, in dank dark treasury of Pinky’s bosom impossible with love and merit like a train beating back the wind, by powers and sorrow of love. As whistles howl long and low along the byways with brute material ecstasy at all…
Paris Catacombs Standing online outside entry into Paris Catacombs. LuLu along with 25 others. LuLu, going forth to bandy up against habitus of the dead. To make a good ripe skulk of it. To relieve the obliquity of love, and its whirling jagged abyss. That the dead had a distance (from life and love) to…
Angelic quandaries unsettle frenetic cloning for the moon in symptoms of doom. Make me into a bristling broom. I can’t stop doing it. Cant stop sweeping for nuggets. Death releases the temptations from their horror. Score transit against tip of sky. Its hard its hard its hard not to deify. Suddenly get wildly confused so…
Draft 2.1 Learning to have deference again, that it is what it is, even if it isn’t what it isn’t. Spawns like a counterweight to PouLou’s beloved hysteria. As always, she shouts: to overcome a cornered lovely blasphemy – obese with obstinacy, stupidity, cowardice. You have to have respect for a madhouse, and its luster…
Working draft Haute le Couer thinking of Victor de Loveleye. On a night train to see Cal in Tennessee. Falls into beautiful treachery whose desires outrange the purposes of existence. Dire flood of beauty and transgression like swallowing a heart & sword & lust of allah of jesus – angels are threats angel of Victor…
CREEPY. Life inside LuLu’s magical soul of terror. The theatrics of horror, she calls it. The whole thing glows in the dark. Its a glowing encumbrance. A rag-tag mystery coiled against quasi religious wars, a perversion of slave-trading for love and sex, forged in magic. Its unspeakable stuff, these “sacred books.” Searching as LuLu does relentlessly…
Draft 1.3 Pretty Raw Peaches is up and running, engaged in it in a way that accepts its theatricality and in-dealing or something — As access and bounty and wind, wind through the curtains. ASIDE: A BattleHard Burrow’s cozy curtained, bit stinky, cat crawling, window-covered bunker, how he mysteriously locks and loads – where dreams…
Lugubrious & tilt-illating Living death or broke? Awash in hatred, its miracle mire – religious, bloody, sexual. Strangely empowering and devouring. Boredom rang of hopelessness, a living death. And this job, as it turned out, was drudgery. Presently, hidden away. Inside a well of seats inside a Mall. An alcove surrounded by big potted leaves.…
“I stole the jar.” And it almost destroyed her. Left to scarecrow in the madness. An influence so life changing – it has to be viewed as holy destructive. Pure of heart, broken by life, floating down the river of love, with flowers of madness pasted sentimentally to her chest. Dying intimately again and again…
Sample WIP from Novella, am presently working on, called Subliterate Swoons and A Side of Dead. Dizzying With No Brakes LuLu LeSuere. Taunts epiphany with bids for transfiguration. To pull her out of the carkness of darkness. Gloom exhumes. Darkness shines, becomes visible. Hears itself tearing itself open and unlimiting. Shadows pattering bang bang bang…
Novella Currently Working on. This is not meant to be a pretty book. Beauty itself is on the line. LuLu is shocked by what she is up to, and in love, Love colored by something of Kierkegaard’s sickness unto death, and the art of loathing. A vehicle for the fallen. In a crank misty darkness,…
Dead Ringer LuLu is laying on a narrow bed in an apartment in Detroit. Its a room she is subletting. nothing there is much hers. her hair is a blend of streaks of orange and yellow. the tatoo on the back of her neck is an eyeball with wings. she has no f&cking money except…
more lulu reps, starting to call these reps — allowing for reps where let repetitions wig through the dig via different sorters? Stomach Contents Boom boom boom. Push through push through. Pain beckoned in flames. Waft divisions of LuLu’s heart. To make them shut up. Boom boom boom. Sublime — finds neg peg, nail for…
first draft Shake it off, beauty is schism. There is anger and horror in her heart like flint and stones. Stop the rhythm. Yells silently, her head up, a deep breadth plodding, supposed to be cold outside, tapping scuff of boots against wall against desk, the moon is wretched, she stalks at the machine –…
Draft 3.7 In the works N’deen Tarwater did not want to quibble with intrigues, seemingly again struck at a revolving glass threshold, that sealed the in from the out. An ever rotating bridge of sighs that sprang before her, a revolving door both effuse and capricious, a door that sang with death, with confiscation and…
Haute le Couer The splendor and the burn. Dogs at night. Barking at the unknown. The ticklish and fragile, belly up and burning blue. Holy scares, holy reckonings, holy scars. The ravages of grace, its giddy violent perfumes. Holly go holy. Go go go – Sweet infernal yoyo. Some – more – guess board of…
Every noun has possibility. Ricochets against pastiche, in greetings. Along the wayside. V 4 — Body of Hate. Surface of Love. Done not done. Definitely frozen — but fully in its cups. Its kind of random housey but small. Compressed into a kind of thumb in seawall of copious beauty term squirm haunted bathing in…
Version 1.7 Come out from behind and tremble like a gun. The more thunk about, more pastiched said dementia overdetermined. Never say never. Living the dream. Getting disgusted with themselves? Hard to tell, when happy as Larry shell bathing in The Royal Hot Springs. Why I love taking mud baths with Dr. Who? Hopeless off license, treachery…
Sides That Ride Asunder
The wonder I wonder blowing me down go under go under surrender asunder Circle starving draft needle pilgrimage for beauty as loot and pray the precious and punter idle hunter. Heart and shames and aims aflame small is all roll mole wonder blunder asunder thunder raft and pole visions of holding water. Standing up. No there she blows I fail in, with Kafka as travel agent leaps and creeps of lemming and the dire mire taken over by a hostile bug For a key to freedom absolute freedom flame and clam sentimentally sacred ? gothic and troll sub essence of the damned running tandem with the program.
To write, to rhyme, to play up against language, be driven to plush the envy lope with unctions of secret sorrows,rushing loose like a flaming noose. Plaguey and divine.
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