There are dreams in the spaces
Between, where he calls out as
Tachyons zip by, sauntering
backwards through time
pummeling brain matter and
screeching migraine harsh,
sledgehammer subtle in the
steady thud-thump of impact.
He just wants me to know
that it’ll be okay one day, that
it’ll all come crashing back
together eventually, even if
it means the end of all we know.
Escape the real world with a dying friend, get immortalized in plastic, break the multiverse, and experience a day in the life of a chair.
Whatever you do, protect the children, and make sure you kill all of the fascists.
cult comfort, or knowing your sacred transfiguration into a scapegoat was worthwhile, the goat mask you wore over your head for years was worth wearing,
With all due respect, sir, you don’t know what you’re talking about.
A woman and her illegal child attempt to make it past Border Enforcement.
You’re going to feel very strange. That’s either actual guilt or fairy magic.
You’ll never look at your automated vacuum the same way again.
