"dancing"
호주 소주 마셔
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Category: Writing and Poetry
My dad ran away when he was younger than I am now To get away from his parents (My Halmoni and Harabeoji) He slept the night in some run down house on a stormy cliff Or at least that's the setting my mind has filled in for him That night, he woke up to see a young boy Asian-squatting in the corner of the room Beckoning him with a single finger He tells me that the boy was silently asking Come and ... » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
I feel sick absolutely I can't stand to sit with an unquieted mind I must have a distraction Have YouTube on while I go through my zombie-like daily movements God what a sad sight When I want to get in the zone I put music on God » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
We were tricked by phantasmagoria Into thinking ghosts were translucent And wore white sheets And hovered above the ground And said boo! If you live in a city Take a moment to think How would I know if there was a person only I could see In a crowd of hundreds? If you live in the country Take a moment to think Who was that bright eyed girl Who asked me for directions » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
If Zach Hadel sang One Week by the Barenaked Ladies, here's how he'd do it: (In the voice of Zach Hadel) "It's been one week since you looked at me Cocked your head to the side and said, "I'm angry" Five days since you laughed at me Saying "Get that together, come back and see me" Three days since the living room I realised it's all my fault, but couldn't tell you Yesterday, you'd forgiven me But ... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
You should kill your friends To say you love them more than the next ones Is exclusionary and violent That's why I have none To say you love someone Is to say you hate everyone else And to take that person as your object You misanthropic psychopath As I am moral I keep them all at arms length I see them all as equal And I, the humble and virtuous, the lowliest grub of them all. I am friends only w... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
I stole my sax from an anti-Semite I stole my sax from an anti-Semite I stole my sax from an anti-Semite I got to get it, I got, got to get it I stole my sax from an anti-Semite I stole my sax from an anti-Semite I stole my sax from an anti-Semite I got to get it, I got, got to get it It wasn’t one of those grey areas We weren’t discussing geopolitics He straight up said a hundred year ol » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
I said my last name into the void One syllable And like a spell it reverberated And I was made a ball of paper » Continue Reading
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Category: Writing and Poetry
I'm mad Like mutually assured destruction I'm glad You made it all this way I had - no breakfast this morning Do you think there's something out there? In the future when they talk about the Red Scare the red will be from Oxidisation Not radicalisation This is not exactly what I meant by a long distance relationship Duh duh duh dun dun dun dun dun duh duh duh dun dun dun dun dun » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
I think I'm being crushed O won't someone help me please? My neck is being pressured To acquaintance with my knees I'll need a chiropractor No, I'll need a giant cast For my entire body Is crumbling rather fast I don't expect you're worried You know it will work out "But this time it is different!" Scream those little seeds of doubt Hydraulics are exacting Sweet vengeance on my back » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
There is a troll who lives in the creek to the southeast. Pay him a visit, for he is now benign. He has long since consigned himself to oblivion, and no longer sees the point in rising at night. He is cold as stone in perpetuity. He is not like many other trolls you've seen - Larger than the ones which march on the city now and then, smaller than those mountainous things to the north- He is an arc... » Continue Reading
Category: Writing and Poetry
Scarecrow, how is it that you and I are not that different? I always stuff myself with straw. When the wind picks up I twist into strange shapes. I stand my ground when strange birds caw. I have a funny hat and flannel shirt that itch my skin. They're clothes that I don't want to live in. When farmer John comes out and swings his rusty axe about I'll be glad to fall to pieces. » Continue Reading
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural
I was preparing to drive my two sisters 7 hours to Sydney. I had the usual anxieties about whether or not everything had been packed correctly. My sisters were debating who got to sit in the front passenger seat. I was deciding what podcasts to download, before realising that, as I am still on my Ls, I cannot use my phone while driving. The thought of seven hours with only silence killed me, but t... » Continue Reading
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