Going to date this anonymous mynoise reviewer so we can lie abed murmuring to each other about how the hull can scarcely withstand these breakers & we may well drown in the night.

The morning after I've bought a shirt off somebody's merch table, remembering that I don't much wear tees anymore.

Father Pujardov sees an amorphous blob float past in a slide of aqueous humour, says "My god...", & immediately devotes himself to Satan. I've never yet been able to get this effect by looking a priest in the eye, despite my persistent myodesopsia.

Again I've shrunk precipitously & immediately reached for fruit. It was dense & overripe, a fructivore's approximation of a beef heart.

The world is full of textures bound to objects numerous, distant, large, dangerous, or, most often, ephemeral enough to prevent me from licking them, or even grazing them with my fingertips. I want silicone bracelets embossed with a selection of patterns formed by the mouches in my eyes.

The ruddy, spindly old man conducting your interview leans forward with his elbows on the desk & says, "One final question, ma'am: How much do you, mmm, identify with BloodHorse? Just take that question however it strikes you. Scale of 1 to 5, please. This is important."

The great blue heron which I often see gliding over the creek at dusk appeared early & distracted me from the delineated arc of water, but only briefly.

Pollen is passed from the stamina to the shadows of stigmata, and another substance travels from the shadows of stamina to the stigmata, producing generations of ghosts with ever-paler blushes.

By far the most-read thing I've ever written was a translation of a French children's book about a vampire girl, done as a favor.

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Eldritch Café

Une instance se voulant accueillante pour les personnes queers, féministes et anarchistes ainsi que pour leurs sympathisant·e·s. Nous sommes principalement francophones, mais vous êtes les bienvenu·e·s quelque soit votre langue.