|Shell of choice: Conch.|
Universal JurisdictionFingers snap and surge,Universal Jurisdiction by TwoSteps-FourLetters
into the fake leather
of the wheel,
A current that dropped from the moon rays.
The roads slick and wet,
but for when the sunray returns,
spout washed-out shampoo
into the drainage.
Unlicensed and unprecedented.
But why, soaked through,
not go inside to dry?
She asked this many times;
To the house or to the garage
To sleep and wake up
to stand on the street and see
the oncoming lights
CrystalsCrystals litter the grass; if light could refractCrystals by TwoSteps-FourLetters
Through them, if it were daytime, if the blades
Were sharper or were somewhere else, aboriginal colors
Would shine through the prisms the way you
Described, saying one day we'd find a world
And three stones, and we would see as if we never have seen.
Stepping in this field is like treading a mine
Or through mines, trying not to tip a trap or
Trip a model-scale avalanche; a challenge met with
Rewards like a pocket of gold or the victory of
Having salvaged all of your limbs. I still have two legs
And two arms, and a pocket on my shirt weighted
With gold to remind me, every time I breathe,
That this gift is significant, and tangible,
And beautiful. Every step I take I wonder
If the crystals can feel the pressure of my movement
The calculated rhythm along my path, but
The moonlight falls before my feet and the crystals
Wink approval, and the grass dances as I breathe.
SamsaraA broken slinky named samsaraSamsara by TwoSteps-FourLetters
stops descending the stairs,
remembering that up is nirvana.
She looks down and says there
is the spot that I was searching
for and settles incorrectly in a place where
She feels her stomach lurching.
Down nor up are real;
the step where she is perching
slants 45 degrees. She cant feel
the tilt, circles have no tips,
which was previously assumed ideal.
There are no floors, each step dips
into the next, each dip peaks
into a step, to catch the circle in a lip.
Samsara spins. On the wall she spots her cheeks,
burning red, in hidden mirrors, samsara,
youre getting me down one mirror speaks.
Speaking glass is out of character,
but not speaking oil, speaking pigments
in the form of the second narrator.
Shes curious, moreso indignant,
frowns and says, Ive seen you before
and the image is malignant,
appearing on every wall, stuck sure
to the background of the mind.
UntitledSignificant or not I reverse glossolaliaUntitled by TwoSteps-FourLetters
Stirring phonemes into meaning with the bumps on my tongue.
Take the meaning from meaning, try to live more like Rabia
And inhale past the lungs
Swim the leagues without gills
Conquer science, insignificant, live among
Those who wholly fill
Themselves with divine gasses
Stolen, jagged, from the air and changed by stolen skill.
Alter eyes, change into broken glasses.
Broken light bulbs shine new light
On easy passes
Though here, without cars, travel at night
Is impossible; nocturnal seedlings
Cling to their bedspreads in fright.
Seedlings can die from pillow fights, they need things
They need solid soil in which to take root
Weak in infancy their need sings
(melodic photosynthetic melting bells, snake boots
in reference to the way things were before:
with God in front of the gun only God shoots
but with awareness of the bullets hitting the floor
awareness of a lack of black holes from holy presence
what can one do but ask for more
Nobody Liked The MothNobody Liked The Moth by Trouserpress
Nobody Liked the Moth
For Siān, for Art and for Acquired Tastes.
I love you all.
Staggering through his studio like a penguin avoiding the cracks Arvo Tikk announced his return by belching loudly and falling on a little toy telephone with wheels, rather than the sofa he'd intended to land on.
"Fuck!" he bellowed. "Fuckin' fuckin' fuck arse bollocks!"
Upstairs, Meredith groaned and stuffed a pillow over his head. Arvo had obviously been drinking again.
"S'no good! I'm gonna hafta kill myself!" Arvo slurred, levering himself up and depositing his bulk on the arm of the sofa, then toppling over onto the cushions. Meredith ignored him. "You'll have to as well, obviously! No use just me goin'. That'd be pointless."
"I got a gun! We'll do it properly this time. It's got bullets and a trigger and all that malarky. Bang, bang, thud, thud, end of matter!"
Meredith took the pillow off his head with a grunt and donned his dressing gown. "Arvo, we