the divorce

Klaus paced without tobacco the length of his sleeper car in Brussels. the train bound for Fryburg, where the loving heart of his wife awaited him packed inside a styrofoam chest, was five minutes late to depart



...on the day I invented color. The one in the middle, looking dejected, she's the sherpa. Do you want to know her name? It's Brenda. But that's not what those other two lovely ladies call her.

Where do you think they're going? They've been there for months, and yet have moved only a few steps. I wonder if they miss me.


will everything remain so still in the miscarriage of this world? we read of desolation's twine unravelling in the newspaper, then turn the page to engulf the pregnancy of another exploding pop star. while here at the edge of time stands our last witness, watching with lidless eye, the mouthless, nameless waste. no report filed on what violence approaches the edge of frame. if only The Great Deep and Moving Force would act in our favor, like right this fucking second please