Skip to content

Monthly Archives: August 2007

Automatic Writing One

And still its wings beat in unison to the pentameter of the grey shale stone that surrounds the cottage I am trying to hide in at the moment. I know it, I know it, I know that I can’t stay forever, sooner or later I have to get something to eat, something to fuck. But […]

Semi-Automatic Writing VIII

I knew the invitation was a trap, despite it resembling a normal postcard, the kind you would find in the front of a record store. The postcard was handed to me in front of the Burgundy Room at 1:45am by a deluxe quirk-quisinarted teenager that was a step beyond melrose gutter punk, more like faux […]