it didn’t leave its name

The thing that watches keeps chewing the air. The sound of its voice is like the husky clatter of corn stalks in the late fall – hungry. Hungry and damned.

sol roth or california death ranch

Garner – all bone and sinew, an easy smile and tired eyes – had leaned out his window (maybe just to get air) and then (all bone and sinew) caught momentary flight...

there’s a third person in this story

The gutter is stained with lives...

Zoltar told me it would be so

...the paper itself will come apart, will dis-integrate, will allow itself to let go of itself, each piece becoming a new entity apart from the whole.

in creases

There is a crease in my sleeve... what does it prophecy?

three out of four ain’t too bad

It was the result of a brokenness in his body.

times long past

He would sit there, with his tight frown, his pent-up bowels, his shoulders narrow again like a boy’s, his paper-thin skin shaking and he’d wait.

spread like snow on a windy day

Would you beat Old Franky like a rented mule rather than just let Old Franky be Old Franky?

bus to somewhere else

There is a symmetry in odd places.

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