Batman as Psychotic
A few thoughts on a new-ish theme for an old, worked-over hero: origin mythos partially intact: Frank Miller’s Bruce Wayne as a boy falls down the well; something dark and sinister there imprints certain psycho-spiritual template, brings about changes in…
so not a bullet, or…
…bullet stopped dead, I suppose. Was that really my last post? I will spare you the details of that flight, a sleepless zombie-walk overnight in Baltimore, lost baggage… I will spare you. So, it’s been a while. I might not have…
waste +
Reading poetry out loud, to myself, while sitting on the toilet. I can hear, above me, the flows, then trickles, of water from the upstairs bathroom, toilets and sinks and the long, snakey silver sounds of the draining water, a…
thirteen
How the bugs fly in synchronized circles, spirals Falling shadows of a hot day Heat seems to be green, and milk white, and sometimes a pale-yolky color Something inside the head that expands bigger than the cranium. Pressure The way something…
tree pollen dervishes
Mornings, lately, have been measured by mucus content. An internal barometer, sinus pressure and milliliters of slippery, green-and-grey fluid that my body somehow produces mystically, in quantities I find hard to believe. All because of some invisible spores. All because…
to make better use of space…
lately it’s phrase-ology, it seems. of this I am aware. But after the heading must come the content. Mild overhaul in progress. I would laugh at the multi-strata resonance of that comment, but it has been too long, too many…
not for lack of trying…
I am getting some new stuff together, squeezing in some edits inbetween bouts of work on the database. It isn’t going well, so I am ‘throwing up’ a stock-template for the moment. My apologies. But all of this is the…