Now, I’m just one walker that’s stood way up and looked way down across plenty o’ sights in all their veiled and nakedest seasons. Sighting it, hearing it, seeing and feeling and breathing it in. Sucking down on it. Rubbing it all in the pores of my skin, and the wind between my eyes knocking honey in my comb.
A short-short I wrote in college, “Love Battles,” is now available for your listening pleasure (or intense distaste, whatevs) at the Bound Off short story podcast.
— Yoko Ono
King Krule and a cloud cover in Baltimore.
Last year, on the fifth day of spring, I wrote:
The fog today makes a ghost of every building. The city sees all with its thousand-eyed mist. They say another man has thrown himself onto the train tracks. It was spectacular, the way he tossed his body over the shrieking platform and stood watching while it bloodied and fractured below. My roommate makes maps connecting jungle beats to house and fills the kitchen with weird, wet music. He seems not to recognize people, only objects for their purpose, like jars for water or doors for opening. When I walk I think about who I am in relation to smoking. I remember the hem of my dress damp from the ocean and the kernels of sand on my hip as I raced you—how surprising it is when one body pulls away from another, how elegantly it trues your thinking of the world; in that way I love my honest failures. I reached the lighthouse and found a seal with an open chest. It was crawling with flies, and I laughed before I was horrified. Happiness is a necessarily brief emotion, but joy is slow and everlasting. I used to be scared, but now things are easy. I am obligated to the future. Everything is easy.
This is a boys’ choir MEOWING. You’re welcome.
Mike Kulich, CEO of Monarchy Distribution, offers Thomas Bagley (Duke freshman, frat boy, and all-around douchebag) $10,000 and an all-expenses-paid trip to LA to perform with any starlet from FacialAbuse.com: “ALSO, for every inch you are packing over 4, I will throw in an EXTRA $1,000. Get your tiny pecker out here and become the next Ron Jeremy kiddo!” Perfect.
— Alexander Chee, “My Parade”