I try to pull words
over gnarled reality.
They bulge at the seams.
They rip like worn-out stockings.
Fast. Uncompromisingly.

Darn! Reality
is prickly and awkward-shaped.
I throw ripped phrases
into the rubbish-words-bin
and take the next unworn pair.

© All rights reserved 2015


I can’t bear your yells, and nobody could stand.
I’m blocking your mouth with my naked hand.

How painful! I’m trying to keep my calm.
Not huge thorns… your barbed words are piercing my palm.

© All rights reserved 2014

Oops!… We Did It Again (GUEST POST // I don’t want by Tony Single)

Erm… hullo there. (This is rather awkward…)

Dear Reader, the stuff that was originally posted here has been removed.

We have done this because said stuff has since been included in one of our published books. We hope you’ll believe us when we say we’re not trying to be stingy. No, this has been done to honour the people who have already spent their hard-earned money on our eBook creations.*

If, however, for some reason you’re unable to buy one of our books, and feel you’ll die without seeing this piece of writing, then please contact us via We won’t allow our Dear Readers to fade away in the dark. We’ll send you the piece in question, and it will be absolutely free. All you need do is ask.

* Of course, we would be like two happy puppies if you too decided to buy one of our books.

© All rights reserved 2014-2018

my Chilperic (Fragment #022)

The summer was over… Henry went to Cardiff and I got back to my tasks in the Federal Museum. It’s not a gainful place. De facto, I’m a volunteer. But I really love this work. And, of course, I do get some benefits from my work.Who am I? I’m a curator of a few departments there, including the department of my own species. It lets me correct the records with some facts and fables about us. People like to hunt for our heads. My corrections help save lives… and to have a little fun. It was I who invented the legend that we like to dance on tiptoe and cannot understand jokes about Stierlitz Of course, it was just out of my childishness, and I cannot honestly affirm that it’s very useful information. But that shouldn’t make you think that I’m just a foolish young wag at heart… I’m a scientist after all! I’ve made some important corrections as well.

For example, I changed Trypophobia to Metrophobia in all of our medical records. Oh! Sometimes I can even surprise myself! By the way, it’s of no use trying to convince someone that a fear of subways isn’t ‘Metrophobia’… I personally just prefer taking the shortest routes. I grab such unconvinced ignoramuses by their collars and invite them to take a little ride on the roof of the carriage with me so I can teach them what a TRUE fear of subways is! And I’m glad to have such opportune days. But days when I meet with people who truly know what ‘Metrophobia’ means… I’m not so glad… I’m happy!

What can be better than killing accompanying poetry? It’s an elusive sensitivity… a vivid and exciting feeling! They hope to make me weaker… they are perplexed… they cannot understand why I mock. I have heard plenty of poems… by many poets… in various languages Some poems I bestow the stubborn ears of know-it-all jackasses, to listen to until the end of the line. Some poems I snub abruptly, cutting them down in the middle of their first lines. Anyway, nothing could change the final act of these little poetic theater performances. But one day, I thought I would have another happy ending’s poetic justice when something unexpected happened.

He was declaiming The Word by Gumilev. He had an ill-affecting accent. My wall of defense fell. I wasn’t able to kill it with my fiery brand of poetry… I have burned out his memory. I gave him a fiery brand new name. I created him anew from scratch. My forum of conscience…

My Chilperic. (to be continued)

© All rights reserved 2014

My special thanks to Cyan Ryan
for grammar corrections and improvement this essay!

GUEST POST // Causal Curses? by Spahr Plops

Maybe the world is cursed
based on causation
The more people
the more words spoken

Phrases were sacred
easily kept secret
when there weren’t so many

When the tomb
of Qualia
wasn’t daily exhumed

© All rights reserved 2014