Fiction
where bodies meet, and toast
(oh! to the orgiastic splendor of twos!)
you folded a napkin in half
neatly, like your underwear
and scribbled down the crease
(a mythology of unions!)
it’s thumbtacked to the wall
a memoir to an end of worlds
like when we used to fall
wrapped in blankets,
to the floor and lie.
(on and to each other)
(with and through each other)
A Manifesto Which Says STOP THINKING
- or -
It’s Apparently That Time of the Month for Kyle Pflug
Two thoughts.
One: This game has too many rules.
Two: That’s because it’s not an effing game.
Sociology, communication studies, even theology and philosophy have obsessively constrained relationships and basic methods of human interaction into boxes. Here we have this absurd world […]
I have become lately convicted that we labor under a yearning for commonality. Commonality with whatever – it might be an other, it might be in entertainment or in drink, it might be in reading. But here I sit in front of a computer which I chose because it has quirks of utility which aren’t […]
As he came out of the orchard he was putting his hat on and straightening it, so that by the time he got back to the car he had put himself back together and was in control again. There was a kid sitting on his running board and he ran the little thug off with […]
This is how it feels:
You have considered this separately, but never parallel with the consequences. Here you stand at the helm of your decision. You hold a knife to his gut. It’s been months since a steady job, weeks since any kind of paycheck, days since heating in the apartment or anything but raw Top […]
