A Cordial Welcome
Cosmik Wolfpack is a playground and laboratory for flash-formed poetry and nanofiction written by The Debtor, a white cisgender male and citizen of the United States.
If you have something to say to the author, send it to cosmikwolfpack at gmail dot com.
11.03.2015
Painfully Artistic Immortals
11.02.2015
this is the content that kills me
I find the important, yet complex spiritual underpinnings of loafing at home
And the celestial bodies that influenced our time of fascinating personal pilgrimage
Duality shapes our every maddening reinvention
11.01.2015
The Quandary of Collaboration with Jubilant Lads
10.31.2015
Battling Vicious Animals
10.30.2015
Microscopic Components
10.29.2015
Bizarre Student Behavior
10.28.2015
Abandoned Mineshaft
10.27.2015
Specifically Demonizing
Curiosity, disaster and secrets are hurled back in time to keep their dreams alive, carefully avoiding the pitfalls which have claimed too many nontraditional families. Dealing with issues of disgust and loathing, games of childhood are replaced by drugs and increasing violence.
10.26.2015
The Esoteric Ether
Also, join the celebration at the asphalt prairie. There, you can find the distinctive pottery dotted with tiny holes. The people on that block drink a lot of soda.
10.25.2015
Retirement Years Have Included Cabinet Making
10.24.2015
Barbados
10.23.2015
Joe was Raised in Virginia and Pennsylvania
It becomes assignment material for students of many ages. Voila, the frustrating poerty begins to take shape. The whole concept of the three blogs is pleasingly refreshing, which is easy to read and hard to forget.
10.22.2015
Shots Ring Out in the Sanctuary
An incident causes havoc between the citizens and the celebrity branding consultant. Three men in an SUV kneel in front of a beautiful daughter (a daughter who faces the devastation of frantic freedom), chosen to fulfill a specific task. Unfortunately the men find an arduous path of dizzying self-discovery, painful secrets, haunting memories, and startling notions about a world of secret organizations and supernatural activity.
10.21.2015
A Very Realistic and Bothersome Dream
10.20.2015
The Body of a Local Resident
10.19.2015
Twin Heel Shaft Malaise
I appreciate the vanished moon situation
And the genetic hammer, indoctrinated and fascinating
You will become dumb enough to follow Robert
To a certain hard green technical age
Where people are mysteriously imagined
10.18.2015
Well-Meaning Autumn Vibes
denoting perhaps the intent of its creator to proceed
cautiously into the juvenile gadget market
lies prone on the attractive cushion
which itself lies on the durable bamboo floor
note that the cushion's botanical pattern compliments the light through the window slats
and its colors compliment the bright shell of the child's computer
Together, we pick up shards of the face of the patriarch,
We discuss the beauty and bravery of crack cocaine,
We burden each other with veiled social media traumas,
And sing of fictitious and real gentlemanly grief
10.17.2015
Overparenting
A formation, but not a library
A messy disk of scenarios
A narrow band of coincidental megastructures
A phantasmagoria needing a human
A seemingly genuine chuckle
10.16.2015
A "Prudent" Number of Likes
A particular wife, we hear, consists primarily of profound troubles, which explains a notorious incident with artificial fruit (as in, all of the artificial fruit, all of it). The citizens here regard her fondly, but without trust. She's fine with that. She understands. She said as much in a letter printed in the local factrag (what we call newspapers in the future), but humorously she spelled "understand" as "understance."
We are of the opinion that this is a sterling example of a husband (another husband) with poor spouse management skills. He knows he is wrong to hold on to his own philosophy of doing. He knows he is lacking in the sinister quality the ideal husband must possess, the heart like some entombed echinoderm. We are furthermore of the opinion that it is this breed of masculine reprobate that is the truest danger; the wife is presumably recyclable and may well perform ably if reallocated to a true hard stud.
A course of action, it is said, must be created where one is not apparent. Therefore, this cohort before you suggests the following: This glorified embryo of a husband must be efficiently broken down to his constituent parts and thenceforth his materials shall be used to find the true hard stud we seek. We shall cackle with well-deserved envy as we watch the hardest among us defeat a rowdy gang of pretenders and devour this post-vital slurry with lustful abandon.
Reallocation shall be swiftly attended to. With our solemn efforts fulfilled, this council of peers shall proceed to sadly masturbate in full view of one another.
10.15.2015
Rick
"We’re not overtly political. Something that I was thinking about a lot, that maybe you like hating someone and someone falling down is really funny."
"What I admire so much about humiliated U.S. geography is that it is more nefarious than first impressions belay."
I learn much as I eavesdrop on a conversation in this humble chain restaurant, and I am deeply giddy to do so. Honestly, this tense and bickering but mutually respectful friendship of a swell person and a deadly weirdo is an inspiration. It is a strange, compelling television. I wrote a lot of it down but you know how ink is, it sucks and now I can't read much of it. But on the bright side, I have a whole new category of skills you can use for the future. You can use me. Use me!
10.14.2015
I'm A Horse
We wander the grounds. Seventeen topiaries stand where once there was nothing but sand and needles. Seventeen children of the Milky Way, grafted onto its skin as if covering up some minor mistake. The light reaches us in soft ripples, the pulse in our flesh slows, and we feel a foreign nourishment. It coincides with an accidental touch.
Fantasy Sumpreme
Inactive father trains his eye on the oblong utensil.
Falters like he does,
Always.
He questions his vital integrity,
Like a country song antihero.
To hold the garments he wore in the past,
Cloud eye father could peer into false memories
And be transformed, as they say fathers are.
The proteins and lipids of dreaming father's corpus,
Losing their old ambitions
In the fresh and realistic tableau,
Make their song known to him.
Vinegar floods in,
Vinegar he thinks.
10.13.2015
suck the sack 4: through kuribo's door
To see the heart in another body and to know it well
To hold the knowledge of carnal transaction
To feel the shelter of innocence and the triumph of senescence
It's a joy to be the sensation on another's flesh
Or to sink slow into the ink of desperate dream
Or to burn the literature we find
In the solemn waste
And then turn our ambitions to desiccated demons
With our vessels of milk
Warm and thick, potent
With eager vitality
10.12.2015
suck the sack 3: pencils in the coffin
Papa Gets His Sex
You frantically check all your pockets:
Voters really do have a choice, openly not significant.
"Limit the impact of bad exits!"
Everything you do online is an empire:
Female judges had one good outcome.
"I'm just sitting in the vestibule waiting for the rats!"
Criticism feels disproportionate:
There's a thoughtful crowd of game developers outside now.
suck the sack 2: nobility binge
As some bitter fetal specimen
An off-putting collection of bones
And anatomy in an Igloo brand cooler
I spend most of my hobby-time cataloging
Their precise amount of acoustic diversity
And their complex ideas
So I've assembled a book
Full of downright obnoxious charts
10.09.2015
9.19.2015
The Chat Cabin
you paid the bean carrier
and took the beans to the old carriage house
and convinced the chief of the denim-clad warriors to give you a snapping tool
at no small cost to your dignity
and then you snapped them
but were unfulfilled
9.03.2015
A CUTIE IN A PLAID SOOT (sic)
With their fists
Sorry for the horseplay
Be my guest in a leather vest
We have to deal out violence
On the regular
Burly friends from the bay
Bring the ocean's bounty
We are each other's fantasy
Dwellers of the pink mist
Eaters of cold clay
Twelve of us die tomorrow
9.01.2015
suck the sack
there was a sucker with a white fucked face in charge and i took the small berry and tossed it slowly and there was a clamor as that guy fell on the spiked ground.
"put that fucking back in the box on the wagon fucker" he said sadly looking at the smooshed berry that hit his white fucked face.
"i'm running away" i said and that's what i did until i hit the trap by the deli, and all of the white fucked face people set to me with their boots and tools until i carried hundreds of bruises. Now that was a few months ago and that's why i spent money to get a fake white fucked face to wear when i go out to the streets. don't throw the smallest berry i say to myself when i go by a fruit stand or just see a couple berries of different sizes.
6.06.2014
Rabbit Man's Glory
But we are losing our will to continue this argument.
We're going to be engineers.
But the water is foul!
Fish farted in it.
What will we do to stop them?
None of our parents have great answers.
So we will drink it anyway.
Fish farts and all.
5.13.2014
Penance for Sloth
there are two important struggles
extraordinary colors and striking forms
the battle for transparency forms a cluster:
I want to talk more about what happens on the posterior part of the body
some successful toxins induce bradycardia around the anus:
that point is a particularly good spot to enjoy
5.09.2014
βρῶμος
Identify slow maniacs offering arbitrary salt water incantations
From the emotions and mirror ideas
Into early significance
I may not sleep and I am the typical charisma
The perfect contemporary habitat in which the desperation seems like the best option
His head wakes up
5.05.2014
Propel Me to the Yuletide Shelter
So I am the possessing party in terms of when people might ask about your cracked face, I know I can say that there is a hopeless situation concerning your failing spine. But I am adept at photographing the glamour of desperation, and I am the chronicler of your lush decay. It looks like a catalog for apparel, your deep drinking eyes atop that perilous figure in its cool white flesh, in the world I make for you in which the blacks are violet and the white is yellow. And the bird iridescence of sleep is some pointless abstraction.
4.17.2014
Krimbul Pitty Pat Wiltch
It's hot in there, and the heat speaks incantations.
The incantations bring dry wind to your mind, and a monotony of opinion to your heart.
He says, he says, the oily bird in the hat I wear will protect me.
So I will walk into the grid without fear's burden.
He says he is not sexually active.
It seems like the best option.
So he walks into the grid with its casting spell heat voices.
The bird in the bird cage hat on his head wakes up and pecks its mirror.
The bird in the mirror in the bird cage hat does the same.
The man in the grid does the same.
4.16.2014
Verminned
Show Me the Hat
Atwhaaaaanta
Where is Mom's Face?
The City Where the Men Feel Sort of Sad
Arthur Frobisher
12.04.2013
Brute Chirality
It oozes chemistry and complexity
It's a good place to be alone
With a kingdom in the night
Mulling over the constitution of a favorite hard rock band
Which varied over time
Affecting the brand's recorded output
To no small degree
12.03.2013
Call the Trained Louse
But offers the chance to see special men
Tall with slow gaits
Sparsely covered with short, yellowish brown hairs
Easy to identify
Typically articulating ideas with commercial significance
I may not survive
I might freeze in a car
Possibly, one of these maniacs will brutally beat me dead
For the chance to eat my fingers and ears
or just for kicks
9.13.2013
Grumpy Chrome Taco
Our happy guardians slid
Butt first into greased tubes
Thenceforth onto sandy mattresses where
Cold hands awaited offering
Cold rubdowns to hot butts
Those were the early days
Before we figured out how to orient ourselves
In our contemporary media-rich landscape
A fog of cognitive violence
And martyred parents
8.02.2013
Another Barrel of Potash
unpretentious and arbitrary
where the expensive canyons await
We book a tour
On the tour we'll see the low-rent locals
putting on clothes
double-crossing one another
conversing with an easy, banter-rich rapport
It feels like they are torturing us with their charisma
We will remind each other of why we've come
but people must have said it wrong:
the horse isn't here
OH NO!!!!
A sociopath is both a non-presence and amusingly earnest
8.01.2013
Green John Chaw
especially since the old obese logic is functional and better
but there’s also a weird man flying around
in front of the game
his boundless decay
exposed
comforting
7.31.2013
Formally I Submit This Flat Thing
who knows the fragility of your aging cartilage
and the whisper gray shards of your eyes
and speaks one heavy phrase
after another
There is no memory kind enough
to recall these incantations
and to give them to a suspicious child
in shoes abraded by loose pavement
There is no space silent enough
to give purchase to these spit wet words
to allow their bonds to cure
and find the safety of meaning
7.26.2013
Calendar of Happiness
united by our particular sense of industry
and a brutal kindness hidden in our throats
We heap the memory meat into great quivering mountains
We have never written memoirs
or held particular views
We are the ultimate blank slate
adhering to this sentimental
pride in the retreat
We are prototypes who long for the dry winter
who bring hopeless words to the city congregations
who await glass rain
hot cutting us down
in our new leather shoes
7.20.2013
Lorenzo
We obtain the pooch and name the pooch Dramble. A rotund fellow in the distribution racket who visits Gramma P says that the pooch has the haunches of a draught horse. Mom insinuates that she may create a special blog for the pooch and a humorous Twitter persona to boot. Dad ties a chain of uninflated balloons to the pooch's tail.
Grampa P composes a sonnet about the pooch and the recreational activities we engage in. Gramma F compares the pooch favorably to the one on Frasier. Grampa F makes the pooch organic root vegetable infused turkey chorizo. Sister weeps.
7.19.2013
Anon Polygraph
I want to know a problem and my kids are quitting and my husband never believed his living situation. After I started putting my five friends through hell it dawn on me on that I needed my good things. I never trusted our home. A spell caster is telling me all of it to no avail.
6.19.2013
Cylinder with Die-Cut Phallus Glyphs
I never complain about my good people; they will own my flesh in time.
5.24.2013
The Fossil Trade
I see a husk overturned
Molested by the beaks of gulls
argued over by sea-eagles
Who leave scraps of calcite carapace
half-buried in sand
to bloody children's feet
to be collected by artists
in the employ of coastal tourists
who desire the form of windchimes
but not the sound
Dead Soap Sandwich
heavily influenced
By abnormal notable artists
the kind with quick lips
eyelashes like vinyl
cold hidden skin
and pronoun coronas
In the easy symmetry
of the suburbs
They pleasure grateful relations
with their hands
and other instruments, things
imported from borderless nations
On obsolete maps
5.17.2013
A Wee Dram O' Ruxpin Muggle
I was disgusted with their social media management lessons. People of faith haven't gone bankrupt. People of faith posted a negative review on Yelp about scumbags.
People of faith are completely beyond business behavior.
5.16.2013
Margarita Recipes of the Ancient Astronauts
After we stole the principal's paddle, we learned that he phoned a popular conservative talk radio program and vented his righteous rage, condemning American Youth as a generation of shit peddlers and tweet spammers. We obtained a recording of the call and remixed it into a raging techno anthem.
At senior prom, we plan on overtaking the DJ and forcing the gathering of sycophantic margarine suckers to listen to our techno remix. Our pain will slam into them like the storm of an ocean, and all that will be left is soggy debris, condoms and cummerbunds and corsets. Each of us will take a trophy. Our future lovers will not understand the keepsakes on our mantles and nightstands. We will relive that old ecstasy through late night phone calls and get-togethers. Even though we will be scattered across the country, we'll probably be in the same place occasionally for professional conferences.
5.14.2013
Crease the Morning
I delight in reconfiguring this cosmopolitan group for sexual escapades, as they break off into couples, triads, and occasionally larger groups to explore the breadth of their collective sexuality. Light-headed with the product of profusely lauded local wineries, my former teachers become students: students of each others' tenderest physical needs. Among my favorite conjurings is a multi-function dildo called The Laughing Giraffe, which serves as a sort of relay stick in one of my scenarios.
I should mention that my teachers have all booked rooms in the largest bed and breakfast in the region, which - in addition to its considerable historic charm - creates an ideal setting for the kinds of erotic adventures I have described above.
5.13.2013
Black Snap
You'll give me a cigarette. I'll tell you that the lies slip from my lips as easy as breath. That reveals as much about me as you need to know, I imagine.
You'll leave that stupid hat in my room, not realizing it's the last time you'll see it. Eventually, my memory of you will be the hat you left, the weight of your tongue, and the intricacy of your eyebrows.
5.09.2013
Drawings of Leaves and Hands
or a fish lover
or the kind to look at a mushroom
and feel any kind of
kinship
I never knew the scent
of a gerbil's
breath
or of dry blood
or of a blanket reeking
of skin oil
and rain
I kept love
I kept it like time
I slept in it
and never
dreamed
5.07.2013
Skull Missing
Women with promises and gallery tickets walk through the pediatric damage zones. I fixate on one daughter of a moist realm and imagine her with the hair of a seemingly charming Muslim. I fill her heart with cold animal blood and steal her genius ideas about soil potential. The women keep coming and I lose track of this one I chose. They keep coming, stuffing the throat of our city.
5.02.2013
Shame Cell
You remember the game we played. The yellow yard, the outboard motor, the piles of rebar. You remember the damp masks we wore when we crossed the clothes on the line. The crying doves, the kidney-shaped watering can, the place where we buried the rabbit when its fear settled into its flesh and brought it into the cold. You remember the taste of the pennies we found in a jar under his tools and his ashtrays.
3.01.2013
Searing Splatter-Rock Tantrums
2.28.2013
Drum Machines at Their Fartiest
We can exchange photos.
2.27.2013
Double-Album Whippet Fantasia
I call blood muscle juice. You act on malicious impulses. My weakness in my hands is fully crippling.
You win all fights. You work in the world with ferocity that blinds me. There is a heat in me that never subsides.
2.26.2013
Goofy Faux-Symphonics
2.22.2013
Barfy Growls
I found very little record of partners in industry who can help make these voice commands swirl in wild ecstasy.
1.23.2013
Outrageously Heavy Cocktail
1.19.2013
Taut Alterna-Bashing
I knew one person who liked to mix her dead skin, dried blood, and hair with the bird food she gave to whatever birds frequented her yard. She was fond of knowing that the pieces of herself she discarded were borne away by various species of passerine birds. She failed to realize that the songbirds who consumed her materials were the sport of cruel accipiters.
1.18.2013
Riff-Ravaging
1.17.2013
Indulging in Harsh Power-electronics Interludes
The next time I see you, you will note that I smell like the sort of thing that comes out of an ass hole. This time, I'm keeping my secret.
1.16.2013
The Smoothie Churn
The way to avoid the screw-ups and blunders is to write notes on colorful paper. Excellence demands such measures. My additional problem is that the little colorful paper thingies were in the box I forgot. Perhaps I'll find it, and I'll begin the new chapter of my life in which I write things on little colorful pieces of paper and I remember them. Life will be better. Everyone will love it.
Perhaps I will never find the box. It will have been picked up by a miscreant, or I will simply never remember where it is. Last year, some people I know but am not related to experienced this problem. Only they can express the pain I will feel, but they are dead. They are bodies in boxes. Soaking up the Earth.
1.15.2013
A Dream Collabo
1.11.2013
Fuzzed-beyond-belief Guitars
1.10.2013
Clean-as-a-whistle Barefoot Blooze
1.09.2013
Spluttery Double-timed Drums
They call some guys cholos, and some guys get to be called fags, and other guys get to be called douchebags (sometimes shortened as d-bags). Some ladies are called hags, some are called chicken-heads, and some are called hussies. Sometimes I make up new slurs for men and women. For men, I coined brildos, yampas, tonguebait, and porgs. For women, I coined wabboes, krill, wredges, and quozzies. I'm going to employ focus groups to assign specific meanings to each of these novel pejoratives.
Did you watch the Garry Shandling DVD I gave you?
Sincerely,
Margaret Gains
12.13.2012
Tonally Schizophrenic and Tonally Jarring
12.12.2012
Drug- and Sex-Obsessed Brats 4
"I will feed you," I said, "But I expect to have explained to me what exactly has driven you to my yard in the middle of the night, culminating in the illicit entry of my home by my platonic friend Ritz."
Walker Jog spoke for the crowd. "We are loathe to explain ourselves at this moment, but we shall sup with you if it be your will."
"Aye, Walker. Aye. It is. Come around to the barn in the backyard, which I use for banquets and such."
And so the banquet began.
12.11.2012
Hey monkey had the watermelon
Neighbors recommend ecologically safer money; switching holiday sounds will save a number of installers of LEDs. You want to gawk. You’ll trip.
12.10.2012
Drug- and Sex-Obsessed Brats 3
"Noted," I replied, "but I'm more concerned with the rather disgusting footprints you are leaving on my Kevin O'Brien Daisy Petals area rug. Master weavers in India and other world-class rug-making regions didn't labor for countless hours so some American's platonic female friend could soil it at an ungodly hour of the night."
Like a cowed mongrel, Ritz backed out of the house. She walked on the tips of her toes, leaving a distressing number of tiny brown smudges on the strikingly dynamic grain and knots of my Acacia hardwood floors, further sullying the positive energy, exuberant flow and optimistic attitude of my home.
I do not control all re-tweets
12.09.2012
We Got a Grocery Store
Drug- and Sex-Obsessed Brats 2
12.08.2012
Drug- and Sex-Obsessed Brats 1
A Maniac is About to Hit You
I started writing poetry when I was a child, probably around ten years old. I am also a licensed real estate broker.
12.07.2012
Award-Winning Delights
12.06.2012
In Some New Place
In the presence of the alien I sought.
I invite it in to work some transformation,
I don't know what kind.
Something painless on the cellular level,
I guess.
That seems right.
Then the moment dies the soft death
Which took each that came before.
12.05.2012
The Prayer is Webcast
12.04.2012
Fin and Bone
12.03.2012
A Strange Insect, or Kind of Creeping Plant
12.02.2012
Elliptical Stratigraphic Pulsings of Different Temperatures
Some of the King's Garments are hot like sun blood and the suffering is intense. The suffering is in the animals and the big plants, in the water and the dead animals, in the food and in the clouds on the ground, and in our softest recesses and in our homes.
We burned our homes and we only stop when our bodies force sleep on us and the dreams are full of the King's Words.
12.01.2012
Underlain by the Brackish Water
11.30.2012
Six Insane Superstitions
Other characters are sometimes composed of more than one space, one from a different value, but it is not clear whether it can check the status of their multiverse.
In contrast, the amount of regular expressions for the representation of consciousness during one whole revolution can range from hostile events (or a multiverse, in which a progression of champions attack another multiverse completely different from the usual) to a government or institutional body which communicates directives to the various expressions of I, which results in Earl (not only is the pressure intense, it causes the material master). Spiritual pluralism is a very dangerous power and significantly improves our champions. Also, Earl is a master of symptoms.
11.29.2012
Well Played, Psych Exam
11.28.2012
Human Ancestors
We like explosions.
We like explosions.
We like explosions.
We like explosions.
11.27.2012
Also we are very proud of the broadband link
11.26.2012
Common Photo Liquid
All of us still can score. This is a cool jivey desperate vibe, we are in the cut. But in most moments we can not shake; it may sound, but none of us can even enter this Jazz. Cool Cats, with us and down under us, which has become here, tying straight, so that we could communicate.
Places will not buy this text we dig here, but it can never suppress these posts made here. This is for us, in cats that have to pick up those who are still paying. Blues is that cats goofed here flew so crazy right now. Man!
What you really need to be here with my eyes in this wild concert, which remains required than those of distant DOA, you get a little higher. That strike, which really was and turned his installation, we accept state directly that show these cats started the area, this group under God, shall blow new sound crazy, and the hot combo hipsters, tight pants, hipsters and no need to cut this scene.
11.25.2012
My Awesome Remapped Practices
Everyone has to consider basic personal tactics for bribing the precious digital society of ghosts who insist on having their own glowing money which can be exchanged for effective, and therefore meaningless, coupons which can then be exchanged for little squares. This scene shall frantically light up everyone. Existence embodies shame in the middle of a movie theater.
11.24.2012
White Blood
In my city, a chain of brake lights heralds the departure of our sad fathers. With wounds under their three-piece suits, they consider the losses they suffered and the cold mornings to come. The sky melts blue into gray, just as their heroes have been exposed as frauds. Their women are ours now, and we teach them marketable new skills.
Licking a Tambourine
11.23.2012
Whack the Floor With Me
I have remarkably unique and quirky students.
Perception bites the giant puzzle.
Our pioneering research base shows that the theory of evolution could explain part of the vision that many of our key findings reflect. Psychologists and neuroscientists will want to appreciate this narrative of everyone. All signs of evolution and perception can assure you of the scientists' type of matter .
11.21.2012
An Award-winning Forensic Holiday Purchase
A person who captivated the President's wife by saying intelligent love terms shouldn't agree with the personal views of Jackie O, Nancy Reagan, or Michelle Obama. His family is afraid of a real-life poised woman. Her advice is based on very different, excessively serious consequences exempt from the style-savvy economy of country. Now, her voice is like sugar poured into skim milk. He should suffer.
11.20.2012
Jam Out to Songs Like This
11.19.2012
Claw in Room Crap
I'm licking my own face incessantly tonight. The trumpets carry a sullen patriotism out among the silver maples of the park, and the picnic shelters, and the bare flagpoles. My coat, the one with the small ovals, provides sufficient protection from the gradually intensifying precipitation. I am applying saliva to the skin of my face with my tongue, the one you knew. Now, I doubt you can allow its presence in your defiled memory.
Utterly Impersonal
This is the band of the future, I'm going to produce them in Tokyo this winter.