fisher king's wasteland

the children are crying and the adults think we're unhappy because we're doing it wrong. meanwhile, i haven't seen any of them smiling and laughing, the way they say they did in earlier rounds. it's the strangest game! the rules were lost ages ago, you can't play it properly by anyone else's rules, and if you don't adhere to the ever-changing house rules you'll be in for a rough ride. then again, the house rules are so impossibly convoluted and contradictory that you're almost guaranteed not to have any fun with them anyway. the rules i remember are awkward, unstable and unbalanced. the only way to win at the game is to cheat, or not to play at all. or to play by one's own rules while convincing everyone else at the table otherwise, which is a different game altogether, and very anti-social. and nobody likes a cheater. it's not okay to stop playing, either. even though we're all out of pieces - the cards are all worn and discarded,

it really isn't. there's a man in a suit and tie at the door, the pizza box reflected in dark glasses that seem a natural part of him even at this ungodly hour. i feel like my eyeball's filling the peephole, as i roll it around to look him up and down. i don't see any weapons, but the box might not contain pizza. he almost looks disinterested. almost. i turn to look at my partner, who's half-crouching, half-standing over the petite blonde he'd brought's form. the surprise of the doorbell has turned the evening into a caricature: the soft divans, the candles, the sexy music and the bottles of lubricants all spread around the luxurious apartment now frame a scene of confusion. some of the guests have stopped their thrashing and thrusting, staring at mary and me and waiting for a signal: what's it time for? fuck or flight? the smell of tension mixes with those of sex and incense. "did you order pizza?" the faint snort and half a smile are e

my dentist demands complete submission, leaving winter in my face [ context ]

1 i sit and stare my future riding on how i complete you and time is running out 2 we stand together you and me so that you can make me seem important 3 i am confined to my wheelchair sitting at the end of my world loved ones pitifully arranged around me as i search helplessly for you 4 i ate too fast you were consumed by a stray hiccup 5 you are the real step between my crazy ideas and profit!!! 6 i spend months and months upon a lonely mountain in exotic india throwing good money at thinking of you 7 ______ 8 i veer from the right paths and you allow it 9 you stand between me and my bank account, my house, my car, my degree, and my job 10 you stand up in court pointing at me, your accusing finger shames me even though sometimes you pull me out of tight spots 11 i drive carefully and you let me know when i've gone too far 12 when i use you in the sand you mean nothing to me and then i feel dirty 13 whose are you, anyway?

snivelling oilus, and lusty, busty crustida planning evil plans, to overthrow achaean lords they don't so much love, as use and abuse each other unlike noble hector, a fool with a great big sword even ulysses' cunning cannot anticipate such a spiteful shafting, no cause to congratulate if the greeks would have known, if this they had suspected victory had seemed less, their enemies less respected the giant horse the second, and who could have been fooled? to play the trick right back, would dishonour even thieves but oilus got there first, sent crustida to conceive great agamemnon's death, she with lovely eyelids tooled oilus and crustida, their dark arts perfect crafted he her with black infection intimately painted their vows of matrimony no more than tempting fate her trade planned, and required for the king to check-mate enter, diomedes, and fall to the promises of this vicious dark vixen, to her sickly sweet sighs whisperings of a devil's orgy

i awake from icy blackness winter, sick summer, whose fever breaks when the clouds break, and the warm air not dragging me back to bed, my usual shield from the bitterness, but instead caressing my heart and skin as i slowly stretch and rise to breathe the day breakfast is a white chocolate strawberry brunch, a banana and coffee i fling open my windows, let the butterflies in far away but here, gentle, hovering spring, i don't need you to be real, to be in love with you in my now you are true, that's so real that it will have to do