faux pas/fox paw

i dreamed i was holding a severed starfish in my palm. i welled compassion.

i am diseased. i know this because i do not recall swallowing any knives, syringes, bees, or matches. i have taken to writing any of the twenty standard magic 8-ball responses on post-it notes and attaching them to my throat.

reply hazy, try again.

today i am happily devouring the failure six and prose. poems. other good things in the queue/mail/future:

one hour of television - kristina born
mockery of a cat - lily hoang
i am richard simmons - ben tanzer
boots walking in america found a trophy - krammer abrahams
museum of fucked - david peak
when the cats razzed the chickens - mel bosworth

mel is awesome. you can see him lend his awesome vocal cords to some words i wrote here. you should subscribe to his awesome project. and order this now. it will stave off senility and baldness and give you x-ray vision.

and bedouin books just released howie good's ghosts of breath. it is beautiful and smells of clean band-aids and the adhesive lick part of envelopes. i once mistook someone for the adhesive lick part of envelopes. it happens.