Art
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Although camouflaged against the tree, I see Meeko’s eyes shining brightly against the stars and neon landscape beyond. The buildings and streetlights twist, turn, sink and rise mirroring the crashing waves that carry in her voice. Her eyes remind me of that of an owl’s. Wise and otherworldly, they gaze, showing no emotion as my… Read more
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With Meeko at one with the tree and the ocean of night above, I watch in disbelief as the ground beneath us crumbles. At first, I’m convinced that an earthquake is the only viable reason this could be, but when the roots of the tree emerge through broken chunks of asphalt, the nature of things… Read more
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As her naughty bits pulse, the millions of tiny me’s that will never be splash the face of the man. Resigned to his fate, he kneels beneath the pinky moon, a shadow of the shadow he was to begin with. His face doesn’t resonate; it’s just a random selection of features with no meaning, but… Read more
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His first act in the world saw him strangled by his mother’s umbilical cord. The next was to suffer the pain and humiliation of having both his legs break when he slid out of the midwife’s arms before falling to the floor. Those poor, little legs, reduced to butter-smelling jellification. His first nervous murmurs escaped… Read more
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Squawking in my ear so that her startled cry rattles my brain, her fleshy bits feel like jelly. Pinching them between my fingers, I hear her heart rattling within her ribcage; it sounds like a coin in an old jam jar. I imagine the jar to be perched at the top of a stairwell; a… Read more
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The feathers are sticky beneath her skin. What’s the anatomy of a feather? I’ve no idea. The hard bit is a quill, right? I should know that, being a writer, but I live in an age where my instruments are digital; I haven’t held a pen in years, nor a typewriter. I’ve always wanted a… Read more
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Glistening like oil, my seed levitates before my eyes. I can’t see it, because my eyes are closed, but I know it’s there the same as I know Meeko’s sex is white-hot to touch. It’s a perverse type of intuition she’s encouraged in me without being aware; one that weird kids like me seek out… Read more
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Not fairy tales, but desire lines born from the grease around her eyes. Iron spiders. Collapsing flowers. April passing to May as the leaves in her childhood garden kick up around her naked, dancing feet. Size four; one day to be swollen. Vortex this. Vortex that. Analytical minds blinded by the many guises of love—but… Read more
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Hot spunk squirts into the neon sky. I don’t see it, but I feel it, and it feels as though my body has subsequently passed into the spirit realm. It feels as though I consist of pipping hot air, fluid electricity and the squishiest of squishy cream; cream squeezed straight from the tit of some… Read more
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“Take me, someplace,” I croak. “Someplace, or somewhere?” “I don’t care,” I splutter, “anywhere but here.” As the electricity from the pylons jumps across the moonlit courtyard to our tree, it zaps and fries the hairs on the back of my neck. At the same moment, my clothes fall off. Not so much fall off,… Read more
