Saturday, October 29, 2011

The Woman With No Face

  The Woman With No Face by extra

Fun, fun, fun.

Tell me your ghost stories, now, now, NOW.

Monday, October 10, 2011

True Local Color

Which way is my face?

Chicago blues and Neil Young all day all day all day.
After the Goldrush and Harvest, goddamn.

I miss this:

The cats in my life have been few, but kind.

Now, furious serial killer writings.
Speaking of which, A Good Man is Hard to Find is possibly the most perfect work of fiction in existence (technically speaking, the way you'd say a building is the strongest building even if it's kind of ugly, oh look at me trying to cushion my ambitious statement-y statement). Anyway, read it.
Also, Raymond Carver, "The Cathedral," good stuff.
Also, I don't know.
Everything That Rises Must Converge (Another Flannery O'Connor story, but possible slogan for graffiti endeavors)

Monday, October 3, 2011

College is

good for improving your Sleeping-In-Public skills.

Poppies, poppies, poppies by extra

Ah hahah.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Speaking of Serial Killers

One day I'm going to jump out the window to impress you
and wipe that grin off your face.
I will fake my death and haunt the back of your truck
until you notice me - staring.
I am drawing a map of the scar on your elbow.
I am knitting you a red hat so you'll stick out in a crowd.
I am marrying my eyes to the square of skin
described beneath your cheekbone.
Your village grin. Your yellow eye.
I dance like a heathen in your indifference.
I will tape the purple crescents of your bitten fingernails
onto the spines of library books, and wrap myself
in the drum skin of your voice until
I am drowning in your cleverness.
I will hold a knife to your warm neck and say
it's you or me buddy
Because I have several thousand heart attacks every time I see you
and there are only so many windows to jump out of.

Creepiness, I am a creepy creep creeping around creepily.

Monday, September 26, 2011


You make me think every 
silence should be Scandinavian.
I see Finland in the crook
of your consistent mouth. I hear
Denmark in your cutthroat cough. And
what would I give
to stand like a soldier
in the proud scar shaped
like Norway on your elbow?

Tuesday, September 6, 2011


Weird scarf-thing crocheted on plane! Awkward length. (Fattish man in real-estate business remarked on my progress and told me I ought to go to graduate school)
 Also new chair.

  Polaris by extra

Song, song?

The Lodger

Jiri Trnka!

Banjo lust on the first track...

Kanji for airplane.
Japanese for "why(?)"

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