Hide & Seek

Film as paper, paper as scissors, writing as fucking, penis as leech, leechcraft as writing.

                                                                        — Ira Livingston

And no word for, that’s right, none at all of us dream of becoming mothers, wouldn’t want it that way can always be better than taking it on the chin often leads to Nicks the little guy with the chip on his shoulder rode a parrot who always spoke first and asked questions later that day they found his body covered with soot, raw as an old sock-ing it to him’s what he deserves more than a slap on the back he’s carried that monkey too long now it seems, co-authoring the distance of then and there it goes again, up in smoke the signals came together for a final farewell to what the hell’s that smell could fry a brainpan full of metaphors is like a day without Pound cake tightens the belt that hung my favorite suicide, my funny valentine, don’t leave me now before it’s too late for games like this, though they do offer a means by which to position oneself in a field of dreams, now wasn’t that a great movie?

Bleeding hearts blunder towards predictable endings are predicated upon a horizon of expectations is better than an eclipse your own habits smack of self-fashioning pedantry can be fun if done with the right person just got away, see if you can catch him her it, objective pronouns aren’t substitutes for sugar include saccharin and fructose have been known to cause cancer in laboratory rats we see ourselves in ideal form, said Plato often got headaches thinking of the perfect table supports nothing, has no legs, no ground to stand on

Chris Semansky | Mudlark No. 20
Contents | Among Them