But The Truth is Something Altogether Different

She dreams in clips.
A music video; she’s walking beside a stranger she loves terribly, they’re in an amusement park and laughing, on a rollercoaster and gasping.
Reaching up to the swirling sludge-puppy sky.

The sharp jabbing beeps of her alarm shock her into the deep end of her room.

Left with nothing but a headache and time running out before her boss calls to swoon into her ear his concerns and constructive bullshit, she quickly and inadequately washes up, bites into a piece of last nights pie and has her instant coffee on the go, almost spilling the black liquid down the stairs.

The sun’s too bright, the streets too loud, the walk way too hard, her clothes too close, what she wouldn’t do for a nap right now.

The blur of faces at work remind her of that rollercoaster, that stranger with a red tongue, and the foreign smile on her own face.

She pokes and prods her cheeks – hollow tombs for the flies.

Maybe it all becomes a type of drug, the lies and the ridicule of the world, and you take it all in. It does its job and you piss it out, shit it out.

The Virus of life.

Be Happy.


Sanity Papa, Sanity upon You!

It’s midnight, the birds chirp in their sleep, the moon is a prickly old bastard.

Mother locked father in the closet to protect herself and the neighbourhood from his nightmares which burst out of him at the most inconsiderate of times

She leans against the door and says: “See the bigger picture into the future!”

He sits on a small hill of heels and replies:
“Make big needles in order to thread the droplets of saliva pinned under a blossoming Ox with antlers and wings, with long corkscrew lashes and grandpa ear bristles.”

“There you go off with your Bull again!”

He sings a hymn of giggles and chuckles.

Quiet Kisses and a Date Night at Home

They Kiss Quiet

He kisses quiet and she kisses quiet

Nobody knows when they kiss except them

Any passion in their kiss is shared in private;
They haven’t done the French kiss;

He isn’t a prude, it’s the saliva, and besides – how do you coordinate such a thing?

She isn’t a prude either, it’s that foreign warmth, the texture of a tongue (her own tongue gives her the shivers at the best of times), what more a strangers’?

They watch porn together;
they’re fucking like maniacs, she says

He nods, adding: and so loud,

All of that sweat she concludes

They haven’t had sex, they would like to, theoretically. The idea of losing yourself in the moment, in another person, they both agree that this would be an exciting occasion. Although that’s very Hollywood, that «losing yourselves in the other», what does it actually mean, she wonders

He blunts out a theory, maybe like when a really deep song is playing you close your eyes and for those minutes you’re gone, on a another planet

She adds: In another dimension

They smile, if sex is like that then maybe it won’t be too bad, a few seconds of contemplative facial expressions, wistful even, quickly turn to frowns and furrowed brows

But the smell! And the noises! They both blurt out, laughter rings out in front of the muted TV.

Endless fucking; even in movies without sex, they manage to squeeze in something, be it a pointless relationship or love interest (or brothel, she intercepts). His words hover for a second.

The whole world is a Sex of Noise, she declares,

He smiles, nodding, but frowns immediately.
The porn flick concludes with an “Over the Moon” money shot and fades to black.

She says: I wonder what the rest of her day will be like. Wouldn’t it be funny if she went to visit the family back home and she’s kissing grandma and sister’s daughters.

They laugh and watch Classic Tom & Jerry cartoons into the mid-night and beyond.

Blue Light Bulbs and Crush: Another 90’s Nostalgia

His head dangles over the toilet seat
She’s tall and skinny
She’s anime Red Blue and Green
Gargling V-H-S and long toes for fingers
She’s Gorgeous Darling
Hovering over clichés n’ snarling
She’s Hold Still What’s The Big Deal?
She’s Back Pages Chic Thrill
His head drags across her Payper Pill

Is this a Cube or an Antenna?

She’s a lovely girl of course! We speak about the stars and she laughs a lot, around me at least, doesn’t fancy crowds too much but she’ll grow out of her nerves.

I don’t think other people know so little about their best friends, but we have similar tastes in things, I think. Gawd I’m not even sure about that!

[Sleeping on the couch]

She’s a million different things, not one I know, and that’s how my friends describe me. We are intimate anomalies and I love that about us. She’s been through so much, more than any one I know but here she is, living on and blessing me with her beingness. She’s my precious!

Hard worker, first to work, last out. Needs help with her temper, always getting into fights, but she’ll grow out of it.

She’s a bit too easy with the boys.

Say that name again?

2nd Bestie:
She and I are soul mates. Bonded by something everybody else struggles to comprehend. I remember she pulled my tooth out once with pliers. That person she’s dating currently is a digital apparition, I don’t want to date her, I want us to grow old together. Once I’m out of here.

Daughter sketches

His daughter moved with the elegance of a giraffe.

She was touching ceilings before her fifteenth birthday.

Her leather notepads were covered in equations for chemical reactions that produced pure substances.

She had a black pen resting on her left ear and bought five breast pocketed shirts to keep her small black leather notepad at all times to counter her jigsaw memory.

A Letter to Jø from Anya

You know I find greetings insufferable, so I shall pass the convention gleefully.

I have been eating rather sparsely of late. Not out of any illness, but rather I find food has lost its magic; my tongue cannot discern between two lavish dishes. As you can imagine,with my intimate history with food, this affects me deeply.

I must insist; it is neither a form of depression nor existential malaise (the two are brother and sister); I do hope this news shan’t affect you adversely.

A final note of whining: my uncle has been a tragedy of late! He came from the shadows to plague us with his mysterious illness which no doctor can find and he cannot describe!
In the night he moans like a dying kitten and in the day he sits rather pompously before the television holding onto the remote as if it were a miracle cure. He is robbing the family of a peaceful winter and mother is too kind to see him off.
I digress. I wish terribly that you were here.

Talking about the recipient of this letter; how has the operation gone?

How guilty I feel for not being able to tag along with you.

To be whole, to look in the mirror and finally see yourself staring back! What wonders this century has; alongside tragedies that fog all progress. I add reluctantly.

O! How insufferable I can be; forgive me for my cynical inclinations. I am a terrible cross breed between masochist and pessimist.

I must be off; The uncle summons me. I beg you to respond as soon as possible. I will be dreaming of you my dearest friend.

Yours fatally; Anya.