The Purpose of Reality K

reasonable mistakes

The Purpose of Reality illustrated short story and poetry collections from Meerkat Press, with pretty fair reviews from Publishers Weekly and the like, now available on Amazon and at other outlets, click for details including reviews.

“You know Rodney, you’re just
a hanger-on, a waste of
space, time, and air.”

She never got my name right,
but I knew where she was
coming from. I was her ghost
companion, a Dapto tourist
information brochure
for an interstellar traveler—
unnecessary and pointless
in every way.

Continue reading

The Purpose of Reality L

beyond the glass

The Purpose of Reality illustrated short story and poetry volumes from Meerkat Press, with fair reviews from Publishers Weekly and the like, now available on Amazon and at other outlets, click for details including reviews.

Beyond the glass, the water birds
are gliding on the rails of rain,
and, for a moment,
their distant pattering melody
recalls a semblance
of another chance
at hopefulness—even with
the knowing that it’s far too late
for all of that.

Continue reading

The Purpose of Reality Solar & Lunar

the realtor’s dream

The Purpose of Reality, illustrated short stories and poetry from Meerkat Press. They’ve had some pretty fair reviews from Publishers Weekly and the like. Now available to order on Amazon, and at other outlets. Purchase, review, and other info here.

Location, location, location,
the realtor’s dream of sifting
through the time stream’s rows
of single bed room nights
in the company of shades and shadows,
and never lost in someone else’s thoughts.

Continue reading

the quiet hours

The rain was running late, still pattering
on the muddy puddles of the city sky,
and the street was smeared with cloud
star-ridden with mercury lamps—
a world as dreary as long-lost
infatuation, as a friend’s anger,
as empty jealousy.

Like a moth attracted
to the flickers of fluorescent lights,
I chose a frayed café where
my dairy-whitened instant coffee
with artificial sweetener
—all its chemical delights—
put me in the writing mood.

Continue reading

the playful invasion

Delfina and the newly-pseudo human known as Pierrot are on their way to Dapto in Delfina’s trans-reality transport, a junkyard Plymouth, which gets from A to B by successively crossing to timelines where the Plymouth is closer to B. The previous episode is here.

The park left us beside a dirt track,
gravel flowed like a river,
the vines covering the Plymouth wilted,
rolling hills rippled and roiled,
eroded into scrubland.

And when the scenery stopped,
we were in Dapto,
in someone’s backyard.

Continue reading

eloise’s fur coat

Inconstant light will be updating once per month from today, rather than once every three weeks. The reasons for this relate to the persistence of reality. It has nothing to do with the wood ducks, so they tell me.


What are you writing?
Come on, let me see.

When Eloise left, she took most
of the crow in the fridge, just left the bones
and the beaks for me, but I didn’t care—
they were always my favorite bits.

Continue reading

the speed of dust

Through windows within windows,
made of pixels, made of glass,
made of minds and made of paper,
everyone was searching at the speed of dust,
to ease the burden at their core.

Wishes within wishes, all queued up at dusk,
some saw walls and mazes,
and some were lost inside themselves,
bound to never find another,
and never by another, to be found.

Continue reading

concrete and clay

One packed toothpaste and a sewing kit
for essential sutures.

“Space-time, its nature is undeniable,”
(in lieu of a goodbye) and that one headed off
towards tomorrow’s sunrise.

The one indoors was waving from a window.
“Everything may be cleaved in two,
so it is with digital computation.”

Continue reading

fênix 6: the first night of the ultraviolet forever

suburbs_s

When fantasy disappeared from Fênix and everyone left, Sorry, who fell out of the sky with her Subaru, and a possibly undead storyteller, were left behind. She warned him of an imminent electrified dystopia, and they sought sanctuary in Guarapuava. On the way, they saw herds of armadillos ridden by sephine spiders. Part One is here.

Luck was with us when we arrived in Guarapuava:
the world had not yet ended, and by the teary shores of
the Lagoa das Lágrimas, we came across
the Pensive Teahouse, open after midnight.

Continue reading