Blog is a zine, where my poet Tessa ram bows up the fiction, with shed the dead (and keep ’em fed) poetry, violin violent love grub, dragon wag on and the death mystery. Language is my fucking philosophy.
And the usual links.
Got any book recommendations?
Fragments from Short Stories: Body of Hate Surface of Love
& ease meantRead More: & ease meant
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 –…
02 The Quiet One V1Read More: 02 The Quiet One V1
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…
04 Soft SpotRead More: 04 Soft Spot
Language bandied with mock cackling suffusion. Cal thought: emptiness learning how to bleed.
05 Pronoun ShiftersRead More: 05 Pronoun Shifters
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…
Bunny ManifestoRead More: Bunny Manifesto
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…
Dead LuckyRead More: Dead Lucky
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…
Dead Pie Flies AgainRead More: Dead Pie Flies Again
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…
ExcitoniumRead More: Excitonium
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…
Frankenstein & WhippoorwillsRead More: Frankenstein & Whippoorwills
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…
Heavenly HybridsRead More: Heavenly Hybrids
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…
Hilltop Park V3Read More: Hilltop Park V3
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…
Merry with AndrewRead More: Merry with Andrew
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…
On a night train to see CalRead More: On a night train to see Cal
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…
Problems with proof of existence.Read More: Problems with proof of existence.
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…
Raven & The PeachRead More: Raven & The Peach
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…
Rhyme in the CoconutRead More: Rhyme in the Coconut
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.…
Stealing BeautyRead More: Stealing Beauty
“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…
Subliterate Swoons and A Side of DeadRead More: Subliterate Swoons and A Side of Dead
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…
Subliterate Swoons and a Side of DeadRead More: Subliterate Swoons and a Side of Dead
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,…
The D WordRead More: The D Word
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…
v2 Bats Fly Pigs DigRead More: v2 Bats Fly Pigs Dig
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…
Vanna GuttaRead More: Vanna Gutta
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 –…
VibistRead More: Vibist
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…
Viral and SpiralRead More: Viral and Spiral
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…
Weave it be, or Holly stuck with thumb in syenite.Read More: Weave it be, or Holly stuck with thumb in syenite.
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…
Why I love taking mud baths with Dr. WhoRead More: Why I love taking mud baths with Dr. Who
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…
Avoid. The Void.
blue glue o
the castaway and crumble
bunny flames out
against the void
on the take
wretched and glorious
are miraculous blooms.
Where catches fire
in a flash of tire.
Again and again
a feral sweeps
where trickster weeps
that batter the eye
where dance at fire.
adunc with ambivalence.
Obvious as toast
is to a ghost
set loose by furies bloodlust
into waste paste taste
the eternal ocean
drizzles the abyssal
with flighty denominators
adding up up up
to a glorious descent
the dire liar
teased and torn
rapture and porn
do be aloof
bloody the bodyless
to wit a holy roof.
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.