Category: Prose
Kevin Boinkston and the Chronicles Of (No. 2)
“Destiny Plus One” After the meet at the park I came straight to my office, where I laid out the cards to see how they’d play. Each time they were dealt they came up the same: Streaks and runners on britches outgrown, belonging to Dolores — the maid with the spades. It appears that my … Continue reading “Kevin Boinkston and the Chronicles Of (No. 2)”
Idahokey
Click. Pyew. Pyew. Pyew. Pyew. “Well — it’s looking like another beautiful Wednesday evening. Sixty-seven degrees here in Boise. We’ve got a frost warning overnight, which means I’ll have to pull out the cover for my newly-planted petunias. By the way, Natalie, if you listen closely, you can practically hear them singing the national anthem.” … Continue reading “Idahokey”
The Book Of Irving Oddcast, No. 2
Congratulations on unearthing another Book of Irving Oddcast. As a ticketed rider on the train of thought that follows, your stub may be the one that redeems us in MUX. Within this platform lies nethered conversations. (Musical cues and their contents reveal discourse and context that take this text live in dynamics.) Focus your ride … Continue reading “The Book Of Irving Oddcast, No. 2”
Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 5
Previous: Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 4 Grade school in the eighties was a petri dish for assholes, where brand names and lunch money made all the difference. Meant to be an island for little minds to grow, it was more a cesspool of personalities — ebbed and imposed. My second day … Continue reading “Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 5”
K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple Stupid)
“I don’t think I understand. Can you run it by me again?” He’s never been the brightest, but he’s been with me forever already. “Look. Carl. You’re making this complicated. We’re already holding the other brother. We’ve had him for the last six months now. When we dig up his container, I’ll make the call … Continue reading “K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple Stupid)”
The Book of Irving Oddcast, No. 1
January 24, 2020 Our guest today is known online for the Book of Irving 82431, and in real life for his felonious expression of psychosis. We’ve asked him to discuss an upcoming use for integrated technology, and its unique potential to implement the future. He imagines a world where humans can be persuaded by Artificial … Continue reading “The Book of Irving Oddcast, No. 1”
The Congener Interludes, Op.1: Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 5
Previous: The Congener Interludes, Op.1: Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 4 “Marvin Gaye” — Charlie Puth, Meghan Trainor He’s as original now as the first of his kind — spaghetti-stained shirt, juice box in his pocket, the note from his mom, pinned to his coat: Special needs, please speak slowly — his disgust towards himself only … Continue reading “The Congener Interludes, Op.1: Sonatina of Intrigue, No. 5”
Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 4
Previous: Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 3 “Morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, hooray.” “I know, already.” I’m still here. Still in my bed. Right next to my chainsaw named Justin Case. The base of the tree is protected by fence, but those little assholes, they … Continue reading “Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 4”
Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 3
Previous: Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 2 “Morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, it’s morning, hooray!” Another glorious sunrise from my decadent urban chateau. Every morning, right above my mattress, perched on the branch trying to grow through my window: Peepers. “Okay, guys. I get it: I’m alive.” … Continue reading “Licentious Intentions: A Shipwreck (the dirty mick) Series, No. 3”
Fashionably Undesirable
Worse than having nothing to say is too much to convey with no words. A leftover cadence goes write down the line of stunting my growth with these spurts. Their circular angles from platforms and pulpits are free to be purchased with angst, But my leaving the branch of an empty paper is a riddle … Continue reading “Fashionably Undesirable”