Tag Archives: Dreams Away

Pieces from the Novel #2: A Hole in Creation

I face the edge looking out, hues of purple and blue gliding across the earth below. I feel them moving. Tribes, towns, and cities of phosphorescent billions crisscrossing like apathetic phantoms. Continue reading

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Pieces from the Novel #1: Neon Soul

Watching the cabs fold into the horizon of the city, something squeezes me, knocking against the comfortable fog of the alcohol. I feel it, an uneasy melancholy begging to be let out, to be thought, considered, felt. I steel myself against … Continue reading

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Dream #3

Tears fall, wiped by stubby young fingers, misery guided by the jubilant dance of beads and feather. Bodies cleansed and given by jagged rock to faith and fear. Time binding and stretching in doomed struggle against divining force. Weeping met … Continue reading

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Dream #2

Chattel dressed as men bathe in sweat, death, and whatever fluid the body can spare. The hull bleeds out men and timber like a septic wound, letting in the burn of fresh ocean water. Drums beat as half-whole oar-man groan … Continue reading

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Dream #1

Coarseness grips my limbs, roping hands to feet. The musk of sweaty sulfur burns my sinuses, bringing clarity to the face of calm unhurried justice. Pain heard but not felt by the desperate choking screams as my shoulders fold back … Continue reading

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The Novel That Refuses to be Written

I sat down this afternoon with a goal: write. It’s the same goal I’ve always had for every shred of spare time, but lately my spare time as been relegated to extensive bouts of napping and general lamentations of the … Continue reading

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Somewhere Along the Way the Muse Died

During college I had a pretty specific ritual. It wasn’t unique, nor particularly interesting, but as is most important with rituals it accomplished something. During the required months I would throw myself into my school work, engage with its ideas, chew … Continue reading

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