In Hell it is always the holidays. The cheer-drone of Christmas music Jing jing jingles through the overstocked Dust pungent grocery aisles. The bagel store is always out of whole wheat, The lunch specials always ended an hour ago, And rain sounds like an Alabama radio show. And there is coffee dripping down the side

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Ridiculously unimpressed Yawning with his eyes as I Adorn the night with slurred syllables and my Noxious black smoke that he says smells like Christmas trees burning.

Roadkill Poem By Chris Major ———– Chris Major doesn’t want you to know anything about him because his bones are made of secrets and his muscles are made of enigmas and his skin is made out of interlocking puzzle pieces that sweat. He wants you to go here: http://whyvandalism.com/

Are you there Oprah? God highly recommends you, sincerely, Margaret. This doll talks and wets – She’s just like a real infant possessed by demons. ———— Raised by the West Wind. Married to the East Wind. Parent to El Nino. M. Kay Kraemer is all of these things. Also, she has very chapped lips.

My younger brother came to visit me in the city one day. He took the train in. He doesn’t really come to the big city on his own very often. He arrived just fine at grand central station. Then he got off and began to walk around. He ran into the mentally challenged man while

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