Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | October 12, 2011

dear rachel

our friendship is now virtually over. how do you feel about that?

not actually any love left any more

none for max either

none for aaron either

none for austin taylor

none for any fucker who’s treated me cruelly and never had the heart to make up for it

kejt

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Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | October 6, 2011

Vegan Stoner Redux

Chop apples.
Chop bananas.
Add coconut yogurt.
Toss with granola.
Munch.

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | October 2, 2011

PLEASE COME BACK
I NEED YOU SO

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | November 8, 2010

good girls are pretty like all the time

I’m only pretty some of the time.

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | October 15, 2010

october

SELF-PORTRAIT

subtitle: pretty boy swag

subtitle: pretty boy swag

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | June 14, 2010

making art out of it

I kept all these scraps saved up until I wouldn’t need them anymore, now I’m giving them away.

I wish giving you space didn’t feel like giving you space to forget. Every morning I wake up and we’re still not talking I run to the bathroom and gag. I want to hear you say something to me. I want you back in my cell phone. I don’t want to believe that anyone on this campus can hate me. When you hear a really beautiful piece of music and it’s so lovely that it makes you stop and everything gets quiet, do you think about me and all the things we’ll never say to each other? Remember our Gchat conversations late into the night? Of course you do. I thought if you knew you were breaking my heart, you wouldn’t be able to. I have been so brave. I have been so brave!

dedicated

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | March 1, 2010

No Sorry

No Sorry

by Catherine Bowman

Do you have any scissors I could borrow? No, I’m sorry I don’t. What about a knife? Do you have any knives? A good paring knife would do or a simple butcher knife or maybe a cleaver? No, sorry all I have is this old bread knife my grandfather used to butter his bread with every morning. Well then, how about a hand drill or a hammer, a bike chain, or some barbed wire? You got any rusty razor-edged barbed wire? You got a chain saw? No sorry I don’t. Well then maybe you have some sticks? I’m sorry, I don’t have any sticks. How about some stones? No I don’t have any sticks or stones. Well how about a stone tied to a stick? You mean a club? Yeah a club. You got a club? No, sorry, I don’t have any clubs. What about some fighting picks, war axes, military forks, or tomahawks? No, sorry, I don’t have any kind of war fork, axe, or tomahawk. What about a morning star? A morning Star? Yeah, you know, those spiked ball and chains they sell for riot control. No, nothing like that. Sorry. Now, I know you said you don’t have a knife except for that dull old thing your grandfather used to butter his bread with every morning and he passed down to you but I thought maybe you just might have an Australian dagger with a quartz blade and a wood handle, or a bone dagger, or a Bowie, you know it doesn’t hurt to ask? O perhaps one of those lethal multipurpose stilettos? No, sorry. Or maybe you have a simple blow pipe? Or a complex airgun? No, I don’t have a simple blow pipe or a complex airgun. Well then maybe you have a jungle carbine, a Colt, a revolver, a Ruger, an axis bolt-action repeating rifle with telescopic sight for sniping, a sawed-off shotgun? Or better yet, a gas-operated self-loading fully automatic assault weapon? No, sorry I don’t. How about a hand grenade? No. How about a tank? No. Shrapnel? No. Napalm? No. Napalm 2? No, sorry I don’t. Let me ask you this. Do you have any inter-Continental ballistic missiles? Or submarine-Launched cruise missiles? Or Multiple independently targeted reentry missiles? Or terminally guided anti-tank shells or projectiles? Let me ask you this. Do you have any fission bombs or hydrogen bombs? Do you have any thermonuclear warheads? Got any electronic measures or electronic counter-measures or electronic counter-counter-measures? Got any biological weapons or germ warfare, preferably in aerosol form? Got any enhanced tactical neutron lasers emitting massive doses of whole-body gamma radiation? Wait a minute. Got any plutonium? Got any chemical agency, nerve agents, blister agents, you know, like mustard gas, any choking agents or incapacitating agents or toxin agents? Well I’m not sure. What do they look like? Liquid vapor powder colorless gas. Invisible. I’m not sure. What do they smell like? They smell like fruit, garlic, fish or soap, new-mown hay, apple blossoms, or like those little green peppers that your grandfather probably would tend to in his garden every morning after he buttered his bread with that old bread knife that he passed down to you.

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | December 13, 2009

Night Music

I’m thinking of a night I knew up north:
A thunderstorm had come and groaned and gone.

There was a girl I took down by the river:
We let mosquitoes have our arms for free,

We let each other’s hands go where they would.
I’m thinking of a night I knew up north,

It was the largest night I ever knew
(A thunderstorm had come and groaned and gone)

And water dripped right down from leaves on high.
There was a girl I took down by the river,

A girl I loved, though she is long since gone.
We let mosquitoes have our arms for free,

We saw the river carry branches fast
(We let each other’s hands go where they would)

-Kevin Hart

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | December 13, 2009

The Red Book

Posted by: psuedophilosophilinguist | December 13, 2009

In the Realms of the Unreal

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