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.

12.31.2023

Drawing the Purdue Calumet Campus on a Friend's Left Butt Cheek

Chop up the jellied blood and act proper when the shoe salesman arrives. When he gets slightly tipsy from the hot vodka that comes out the tin spigot? Fuck like a duck in a truck. Remodel your terminal nodes in the rosy mist of idiocy. Finally, embowel the liver in liquified philanthropist's teeth.

12.15.2023

There are Frozen Beef Knuckles in East Chicago

After a modest, gifted villain retired, dogs transported his body through shadows. But what he does not know is that their powers include a knack for illegally surrounding minds and kidnapping morality.

12.07.2023

We imagine a centaur (but he's half-crawfish instead of horse) eating at Bronko's

Blessed be the fun-loving individual who loves a well-bred stallion.

His closest friends would describe him as an elderly lady who owns a horse ranch.

Cursed be the life of the party, wholesome but not preachy, he makes friends and learns to resist surviving.

What were the events that led him to conspire to be rid of profanity and school assignments?

You won’t know you’ve been seduced until a buffalo stampede develops.

12.03.2023

Sassy Musician Swims in Cedar Lake

Buddy had limited edition sexuality, as well as the dilemma of uncertainties. A sensitive young film maker, he shuffled off to steal ten paintings by a hooker, Jack Slade. After being clobbered, Buddy went in search of a man who would revolt as a protest against Broadway. His goal in life was to be a seductive young Texas rodeo queen, disillusioned, dancing, painting a 35 foot catamaran.

12.01.2023

We are the Wicked Errors of Michigan City

I’m bored. I want a magical potion.

You want some vintage aged wine. Your grandfather, a secret ghoul, discovers that his flatulence (tooting) gives him unusual powers. He is the product of a dysfunctional family, encouraged by his wife, Dorothy, to be a doctor.

To kill time I partake in the puerile use of text-speak.

11.30.2023

Watching a Lady Paint a Mannequin in the Art Theater

When you crawl on the ground, in the fashion of a plastic soldier toy with a flimsy rifle, I worry about your penis.

Will it be abraded by the gravel? Scarred and burned by the dingy berber we bought when we were desperate? Will it attract bloodsuckers?

I see it clearly, a movie I've watched repeatedly to the point to decay, a fraying magnetic strip in a brittle carapace, sunburnt label nearly unreadable. Your flayed phallus, and you're the only one to blame.

11.15.2023

Forklift Inside Bon Femme Café

A family of burdened elves convince strange beings to accept their similarities. The craftsmen like to take control of octopus statuettes, using a crystal. This will not be an easy task, as resistance from opposing witches will unite all cave people, jungle men, and pirates. Being a woman, the new martial arts trainer likes to drink alcohol, loot, and plunder. Have the witches bitten off more than they can chew?