A Green Bed Truss

This is a great texture: airy, terraced, washed and snackable. It's a fine piece of luggage and I will carry it with pride on the ferry to the hospital island. Im hoping that the children I see will become good people. I dont know that it will happen.

The rocking of the ferry on this gentle water brings me to a mental space of joyful relaxation. Striated thoughts — memories of my fraught schooling — slip into vapor. Salted kisses from the grave.

Tomorrow this ferry makes its last trip to the mainland, failing and sinking to the bleached coral wastes below. A playground for bored executives with expensive wet suits.

Fluorescing Until the Demon's Lunch

Wilting sleep in a carriage abandoned behind the major retail chain location, dream that clover sneeze.

Zucchini and cheese with a morning sandwich, devil eyes roll into a routine triumph of elasticity. Frog clown hunger stimulates a post-nuptual tantrum.

Dream the gilded trampoline, fill the video with me and your family.

Evaluating Preemptive Oracle Murder

I might sit in the swirl alone, exactly alone. There is a consciousness here: an unmoored ragged thing.

Agitating, this presence forms and reforms repeatedly, shifting a face into a lung, a nipple into a navel. These tissues respond only to themselves.

Really Solid SEO Master

I will set up the phone for you. You can download a new stain for your exposed bone. Roll the phone in tannin-rich leaves and bind with cotton twine. Twist a finger into the correct shape for the bottom jack. Tinkle first! It will take more than an hour.

Grommets in the Incubator

Scalloped rompers, eyesores for a picnic, and the oozing of the dark stone portend formal wimp flesh cravings.

Wimp meat baked in plaster slabs flakes fibrous like pixelated portraits.

Tube cranked wimp meat liquifies readily, good to squirt through pump chutes to prank fancy towel vendors or witty people in silk suits. Pick on a wimp, teach the wimp milk magic today. Rip the wimp apart.

Itching for Charlie's Hands

These people are properly insulated. They hate their jobs but with the fine reactions to their screwtop polo shirts and soaked neckties, paisley quilt weekends are the norm.

Twig arm hugs solidify the geometry of affection. Etched weed runes carry the whispered curses of the designers of our insecurity. Welts rise on the leather.

Cervical Worm Flood

Truth lies in the etchings of enamel, product of rootless wives and grifting mothers.

A movie made for a goof makes dad happy. His tidepool smile tells the story of our future.

Putting me in your mouth, you squeeze police car lights into the room.