poem: twisted

published also in one hand clapping magazine, in altered form if you put my face into wet cementit would not leavedefining marks. my shoes squeak lolita lolita lolita after i visit my father;walking across town makes towninto thin manga lines,the people slipping into hotpencil shapes and his thumbprintskeeping close watchon my ankles, on the young… Continue reading poem: twisted

writing: screenplay, #2

[the girl's name is Mildred; she is tall, modern, and almost nervous. she is orange flowers against a blue sky, or some other equally silly and half-finished aesthetic. she is wearing overalls (stylish ones), over a thick sweater.] [her half-sister is unremarkable; she is called Alice. her greatest tragedy in life has been the death… Continue reading writing: screenplay, #2