aga |
Telephone poles stained the copper skiesThey were stained with the wires fusing to moving cloudsSplinters of steel cords pressing against the salty soft whiteHem of the day's night gownAnd I listened ...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Wed, 27 Feb 2008 06:49:00 PST |
can’t save it |
The buildings are made of bricks. The dumpsters; green and black metal. I am at the edge of an alley, standing, staring with these poppy-seed-pupils into the dense darkness saturated by a single light...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Mon, 25 Feb 2008 03:54:00 PST |
mushrooms in victoria |
I divided the pile of mushrooms into three equal servings. Gave one of the new piles to my cousin Thad, one to my uncle Jamie, and kept one for myself. The shrooms were drenched in honeyso with stick...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Wed, 12 Dec 2007 10:39:00 PST |
abstract time journal |
Mickey Kenny
Non-fiction
The Corners of Glass
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10:16
I make eye contact with a white husky tied to a metal table outside ...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Wed, 12 Dec 2007 10:37:00 PST |
Fuck Linear Time and Pepto Bismal! tongue memoir |
One morning I woke up with a black tongue. I remember the cold air of the bathroom, the single light bulb left of the mirror and the sink stained with my tarred saliva--it looked like oil. I held my t...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Wed, 12 Dec 2007 10:35:00 PST |
following silence--roadtrip memoir |
Mickey Kenny
Odor
Following Silence
My friend embodies the odor of burnt rubber. This is not to say that he actually resembles the smell, but rather, his personality shares many similar qualities to ...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Tue, 27 Nov 2007 05:02:00 PST |
revision, biblio |
Mickey Kenny
Non-Fiction
Essay 1
A History of Wind
Part I __________________________________________________
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I wish I ...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Tue, 23 Oct 2007 02:37:00 PST |
fire and wind, outline |
Part I.
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I wish I could burn the wind. Singe the flesh of moving air and smell the smoking skin of a ghost. I cannot burn...
Posted by Dr. Eam on Tue, 23 Oct 2007 09:36:00 PST |
fire |
I wish I could burn the wind. Singe the flesh of moving air and smell the smoking skin of a ghost. I cannot burn the wind. I've watched candles fail, dying with their wishes.
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Posted by Dr. Eam on Wed, 17 Oct 2007 02:27:00 PST |
name intor |
In furthering my investigation of my name, I have discovered another incentive for my parents naming me Michael (Mickey). It turns out we are the family of 'M's'!
Here is the list:
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Posted by Dr. Eam on Thu, 11 Oct 2007 10:32:00 PST |
