Sunday, 16 March 2014

Dark Dime Regina

Hey blue-nose schooner-face twisting dark-dime, breeding suspicious chaos, breeding calamoutous  math-lizard, you are the bread & the blood & the bright green rivers. By the grace of god Regina you live to last, you live at last among us & kill us.

You look at your tingle-finger & tinkle down-river-trickle thinking I’m responsible for all this machinery, fuck. What if I don’t make enough mooney for my musters.

Your sales are squandered on their once silver later nickel now steel satanic shroud on obverse face. Regina is all over you now, all about you, squating to launch you loosey-goosey like migratory lunch.

Well-spent you are restless in your dumb-up damp-dream spender-spleandor lamp-lite. Unsavoury in your squeltered nest, you eat among us, you swallow us, upset our sauces.

Dim unidimensional broken token tantrum gathering proactive plunder. I wonder what brand of bankable storage bath you do without, you do with, you get bloody in bed with.

Branch out, brain up. Blank in. Oh, bunch up, like under where will you, under what war of bordered countries will you let loose your monetary frenzy?

Our skeleton feeds on you, muscles know you, channel your eager need thru the anatomical blood circuit. Energy up, we invite you, addiction is us wanting more of you, wanting you receding, but wanting, always, more of you.

Sales doubled in that eager era of overabundant gear. Overlapping organs in reduntant slave units fold through temporal mazatronic invest. Say to yourself, “I eagerly defile myself” ... “I sign the log with my slave-name.” I die overeager, I die every hour in that value-added dimension.

That was an ending, fully sufficient, and yet as surplus obsessive excess, on it went ...

Get back to your throne, Regina, get in your circuitous revelry & expound, expand, get everywhere with your promiscuous donuts & adulterated fanfare.

I need you. I am among you, feeding suspicious chaos between your weeds. You needed me, you needed me. Amorous events swallowed us down the allowance hole & we corrupted, inflating rank vulnerations throughout our flaunted rations. Fuck you allegorical sniffle-snafu. I snuffled your occupation, I beginned you.

In that snifferous chaos dimension, in twine all chanced over their web-drama with summation irregularly enticed.  In time, or on time twas it, it mended you for the better or was it. It was. Your are better, you bleed proper.

Dark dime surrounds like gummy cloud remember. Get incendiary clay monitor for your slick passion player. Dark gum you won’t remember it sticks over your eclipse just like you warned.

posted by Ken

Friday, 14 March 2014

A Synopsis for Further Out

Steeped in the milieu of Regina’s inner city, Further Out’s somewhat unlinear narrative tracks Erin, Wanda and Reese (Blue Eyes) as their archs converge in a final violent act. Its antiheroine, Erin, is a young woman cut adrift from a childhood drowning in her mother’s “oceanic despair” into an equally tumultuous adulthood. Lacking moral anchor, driven by an antipathy for authorities, her obsession with the animal abusers and sexual predators she sees everywhere turns to vigilantism. After one such escapade goes wrong and lands her on a psychiatric ward, she meets Wanda, a 16-year-old punk-influenced M├ętis misfit. The two form a bond, at first opportunistic on Erin’s part, that joins them in the quest for justice. It is in opposition to Reese, the brother of a childhood friend and perpetrator of animal cruelty, that Erin first comes to identify with the weak. And so it is fated that they should meet again.

While its subject matter will be too boring for some (lovers of gore and cruelty) and not boring enough for others (haters of “mature” subject matter, e.g. violence, profanity), hopefully someone will have a Goldilocks moment and find it exactly the right amount of boring.

Sunday, 9 March 2014

Short Fiction in Broken Pencil

Read "Art"

Utilitarian Donuts: the experience that became a magazine that got demoted (or is it a promotion) to blog

our banks of food collecting
empty filler, a lump en
mass congealing in
plastic containment
project, yet still packing
so much pleasure you are
not even guilty for

at one time many
a stratified donut's
concrete remembering what it is
to be separate, pristine

waiting to get picked
up your chances went and

left de-individuating you 
melt into fascistic liquid
cause do this violence to
commodity will make you
pay with inches of your life
style, chances, in futures
you are not good for