abandon the future, babe


, , ,

he said that he knows the

past, not just what happened the day

before, but what happened

decades ago, millenia ago,

eons, ages, he said that he knows

why she looked away when he

was birthed and why she didn’t

know how to stop when he

was conceived.  he says that he

can finish any time he wants, when the

paint dries, it can still drip down,

the red can mix with the

white, the skies can

make rain seem

blue again.

say, sure, but don’t discipline me


, , ,

if you could make it

to the end where the

narrartors are explaining the

location of north and how it

is better down south, where

families are less fortunate

because their dreams only feature

elephants and not beer or

pringles.  A woman asks you to

dance away from where the fire is

made and then to drink calves’ milk

and spit out films.




, , ,

we didn’t know what the

casino would say when we told

her that we had not finished school

to be a physiotherapist.  So, the men around us

began to cry and they all said

that they would take the brunt

of our lies and go to camp in

segovia, where the giants

take giant steps and

the werewolves have

a taste for those as precious

as the lambs.

the militants of the centre


, , ,

a martian steps into a boiling body

of water.  She looks towards the

scoreboard and then back at the

fish.  When she can’t see what

the points are, she takes off

her helmet

and her feet.  She can’t walk anymore.  There isn’t

a love interest at the bottom

and her spaceship flew back to earth

the day before.  There is green ivy over

the garden on the spaceship, there is a

nice table for coffee and

the joinery on the table es

wunderbar.  Her children don’t

remember if she was green or

brown, or where she was grown and

what oxygen does to her.

he is missing his home, his food and his wife


, , ,

there’s an alien with a guitar

he is waiting at the edge of

the desert, where water comes and

goes, but never leaves.  “Have

you ever seen a homicide?”  “Have you

eber seena homicide?”  The night

is late and the assassins walk slowly

to the end of the wall, on the other side

of the world.  ‘are the china and the

united states headed for war?’  The shaman

doesn’t know any english,

any fine words, ryhmes, emotions.

The shaman walks across the lake in

the lake in the himalayas,

grabbing paragliders, skpping with

broken stones.


the sun behind a wimpy leaf


, , ,

your mother comes home

from a neighbours bar mitzvah

and you can smell the summer air

on her turtleneck.  you father comes


soused and happy, winking about

the barmaids and one young one

named elizabeth, who

should be at home, with her

fiance, but who has run away



believes in

love. and strawberry fields and

fresh jogging outfits,

so we can smell fragrances

on fabrics.

photo’s of grandmothers’


, , ,

a troubled boy picks at a flyer

and then copies down the

number that is handwritten on

several notes.  But nobody

“fuckin'” cares what the ink

feels like on

his hands and the way that

he’s smudged his face.

‘The numbers add up to

gun violence and the fragments

of a woman’s memory when she was

a child.  She didn’t escape from

her desert land, but she

did win a big literary prize when

her skull was pulled from

the sand and mortar.’

welcome to tiger country


, , ,

after a hurricane a woman

from the middle east in florida

is covering her wide legs

with a tattered dress, but little does

she know that there are dead mobsters

with oodles of

drug money that died from choking on

gigantic meatballs during

the apocalyptic winds.  When the

images of their concave cheeks

and bulging eyes, purple faces

reflect into her

deep deep sockets, she eats and smells

the money and makes her life so much better.