Overstock (for Apotemnophilia)

By Michael K. Gause Fifty beautiful acres and all you think about are the taxes. The land is fertile and to the southeast and there is no life and weeds and clouds the color of incest, just as you are sure that your life would be more complete without it. And you have to laugh [...]

Read Full Post »

Upon Hearing French Ambient

Michael K Gause Who knew when the French started being cool in the post-modern age? Did their cache enjoy such health that it naturally bled past the New Wave, riding it without effort, into the electronic default? I hear the beats now, soft, a breathy vox pulling them like beads on her tongue. The seduction [...]

Read Full Post »

Lunch Crumbs

By Michael K. Gause I. Pasty white men shot Into suits Sausages Bluetooth toward the future Rightfully paved II. Stumbling gentry Have Eskimo Pie lunch dates With oblivion III. Tiny women keep Company with chimps Success promised more than This pimping IV. Homeless promenade Every can’s a hope The leg up Everyone else has been [...]

Read Full Post »

Hard Colors

By Michael K. Gause He slumped into the water a couple of inches and let his lids fall shut. He felt the heat of the water suffuse his legs and the water itself cool in response. He drew his hands up and onto his closed eyes and enjoyed the sensation of wet heat on his [...]

Read Full Post »

Letter to You

By Michael K. Gause Hey, A new year and the jury’s still out on what will fire us in new directions, what axons will dwindle from disuse, and which comets will call us into the street. “I open myself to the myriad and labyrinthine passages this city architects within me.” a) Yes b) No I [...]

Read Full Post »