August 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
We sometimes miss the stars for the blinding lights;
The bleeding, broken air that soaks us – that steals us away.
We miss the stars while we’re shooting in the shallows –
Rushing for all that is short and sweet.
We sometimes miss the stars for daydreams;
As we drift past the moon with our eyes closed – Dying in the darkness of the imaginary.
We miss the stars for fear and second-guessing.
So unsure of ourselves.
So afraid of life, that we let almost nothing in.
Then, in our final flirt with magic;
Our last dance before the moon;
We will be missed, before the twilight – Turn to stardust… before we’re seen.
February 14, 2013 § Leave a comment
He did damage to my head in the first 5 minutes. Derek – The pest control guy. Jacked up… cracked up, conversational cunt. Crooked hips, crooked lips; sweet talkin’ and singin’ his praises proud and loud. Shit seeping from his skin all the while. Oozing gunk that slowly builds up, hardens up, and
angkors to his face. The biggest, filthiest freckles ever seen around this place. I guess he’d be the kind to pick apart his face. Someone strike a match and catch that dribbling trash! Turn it into ash before it beats us all to crap. Derek. Mister Pest Control. What a headache. I hate this man! Unlike Harry – my sweet Harry, who I adore. He’s certainly no headsore.
“Harry… I think I might need a nurse. Or perhaps a doctor. I don’t feel well.” “Is it your head again?”
“Maybe. Well, no… probably. Ah fuck, I don’t know! Yes. I guess.”
“Pills Petunya. Take your pills. Do it now.”
(to read more… go to ‘Short Stories’ (left hand side list) > Scroll down to ‘Read These Stories’ > Click on ‘Controlling Harry’ and…. wahlaa!!)
April 23, 2012 § Leave a comment
Bang! Bang! Bang bang!
Boot. Whack. Smack attack.
Kid comes back, bright eyes and bushy tail, asking for a pardon.
Well excuse I… Apologies I… I’m sorry, I… I’m so very sorry ,I…
Bang up! Smack down! Jab jab jab!
Juice up… loosen up… dope out – mope about.
Cough cough! Splutter splutter!
Doctor Doctor, check her clacker… What’s the matter?
That meat looks green. Quite obscene. Nothing like I’ve ever seen.
Jack up! Smash up! Smack down!
Ground. Pound. Pop her…. split her. Prick.!
Scripts from the doctor.
Dose up. Double up. Dope out.
nk | 1204
April 7, 2012 § Leave a comment
Run. Race. Run run run.
Never a pleasure. Never any fun.
Forget your things – they’ll see you dead.
Forget your friends – they’ll shoot you in the head.
Just run. Race. Runaway fast.
Just flee; just fly. Fly fly fly!
Fidget and fumble – weak at the knees.
Fragility has hold of you; got you frenzied… got you freezed.
Fly away pussy cat – can’t stop here!
Heal toe, heal toe; Faster, friend, please!
Unpack your pockets. Get rid of those coins.
For they’ll see you trouble, they’ll see you trapped;
They’ll see an arrow… straight through your back.
Brace yourself. Race. Run; ride; peddle.
Never any peace. Never time to settle.
Not a time to ‘tap tap tap’;
The train is leaving – don’t look back.
So run, race quick;
And drop that filthy cigarette, and put down that fucking stick!
Don’t let them catch you.
Don’t let them see that you’re sick.
August 5, 2011 § 1 Comment
A Late Night Editorial [1st Edition] Written by Dr. Susie I.V Crockashit
‘Party pash’. Those are the words splashing off the tartlets of today’s modern world. Gone are the days of ‘flash ya gash’ – Even the famous ‘cunt face’ action has been replaced with this festive lingo, spoken by more than two billion muscle-hungry, horny young party pretties, from all over the world. The lustrous lady who kicked started this famous ‘lets get face-fucked tonight’ manner of fraternizing, is known only as, Paulie Delicious. Perfectly described in Disco-Diaries 45 (a broadcast of network 69) as delightfully decadent, desktop-sexy, and strange, strange, strange!
But perhaps there’s more to this party-pasher-people-eater than meets the eye. While worshiped by coked-up biscuit babies, Rumors are flooding porn sites to political journals, that Party-Pash Paulie is an international Anti-packist – in alliance with ‘The Pack-Out People’ and Real-Time Rebel Leader, Ivan Insane. Insane is believed by many to possess the power to speak to and negotiate with, gremlin grid-riders. Although this has neither been proven nor dismissed – The Radical Leader has been named as the worlds most wacked-out weirdo to ever walk the earth. Ivan Insane is currently wanted in all 7 states, for crimes relating to security threats to agencies of Chinese Political Science.
To be continued…