WELCOME TO ROOM 0011
THE WAY YOUR HEART MOVES, YOUR EYES IN EVERY MIRROR
California is always changing but Michigan is always.
In Heaven Everything is Fine
If you were to say to me, “You can be in a room with either Chris Rock or the Pope,” I’d say, “Chris Rock, please.” Nothing against the Pope, but he’s never made me laugh.
David Meets the Pope
I’m mother fucking John Doe. And I love looking at pictures of you. It’s a privilege.
In Heaven Everything is Fine
Vanessa comes from a below sea level tropical hell where everyone owns a gun: LA.
Take Van
“You have to let evil have broad shoulders,” it commands attention.
The Art of Fiction No. 245
REST ASSURED YOU WILL RUN OUT OF TIME
it is difficult to stay tethered
Randomly poignant sentence from a font website
Here, everything is so high up you can only hear a faint rumble from the myth-making capital below, which is currently hidden under a thin watercolour wash of clouds.
Good Luck Babe
Her feet were the size of hot-dog buns.
David Meets the Pope
Our bodies
intersect like highways
with limitless access and perfect spans
of attention.
We pay for this later. I pay
for breakfast.
Great Art
But I have no nose, no mouth,
so you tell me what's good, what's god,
what's funky.
What I am
I catch your eyes in every mirror.
Theme for the Nautical Cowboy
beard grown thick, wet the bed black;
death calls our names alphabetically.
Seeking
Someone had spread an elaborate rumor about me, that I was in possession of an extraterrestrial being, and I thought I knew who it was.
The Cowboy
The boys stared at the road as the car ate it up. It was the suburbs. You either get away with stuff or you don’t.
Kid Sister
“The last gasp of air in the analogue age.”
Be Here Now
I’m not queer; I’m gay. The difference is that queer people are offended by just about everything. Gay people just wonder what they’ll wear to the Vatican at the crack of dawn, and what the proper etiquette is.
David Meets the Pope
What can be said about what we do to each other.
What street, I don’t remember,
on the way to someone’s going-away,
I saw you, as if in the middle of a sentence,
snow: your new evening clothes.
Out of Some Other Paradise
Fate eats you up. We rub against the facts now.
Fear
They move the way
your heart moves, the way we breathe.
Great Art
I clear the decks and spend my leverage. The rest is dazzle. This is a cold shelf, Sport. A struck bell. I gloat when I say this. I shine in the frost. I am a lamp, you are a gun. You spend your bullets on a hat, I burn when touched.
Fear
