ReView: Wood Boy, Dog Fish I must arrive from a great height, like from the beyond into which Ms. Sutton's spirits abscond at the end of her play— I must come like Zod in Superman 2 inexorably towards

It's something we all want to do: who wouldn't want to live in the frozen north? The people are friendly, the landscape is wide and beautiful, and best of all, there is no American government in Canada!

We have a story. I can't tell you what it is. we're not ready for any story yet. we have first to take accounts-- no, not accounts. Not confessions either. stock, in a general sense. internal stock, a

New Year we're coming to the bend in your eye each wind under your legs knocks me back you're looking over your shoulder looking for where we were but I'm looking ahead what was it you said who did you

we're flooding the street opening the doors and windows for the breeze we're shouting shouting so quietly we can barely hear each other we're wielding our skulls like maces swirling around the pink dawn

the electric runs down my back up my arms into my chin and shoulders my knees and toes the sky is watching synthetic music pours out of my laptop behind it, the city is dancing I move my head back and

don't tell me I won't don't tell me I shan't serve nor fight not even here not now it's nothing at all this dream nothing to speak of no memory nor hurt no shape nor found foundry founder with me the darkling

no one can remember nor I we're unremembering to find where we've been each chapter in the memory recites itself constantly thrumming the sky urging us on I don't remember why but in unremembering I feel

what ruined surface of your moon relates to me my only child whose urgent melody reposes dark inside your eye give it me and I will heal it give it me and I will damage it more under the cover of stars

many lives under the dark needing each other every mile where miles don't exist watching the stars counting the days between lives parsec by parsec we read the letters imagining reunion either in death

Death to Elizabeth II this is a poem titled "Death to Elizabeth II" A phrase which was banned from Facebook On August 11, 2017 By Mark Zuckerberg. One of my Facebook friends reported me for saying

you can go fuck yourself today and every day you can go fuck yourself today is the day you can go fuck yourself it's today today is the day we have arrived at the day it's beautiful to fuck yourself and

open your mouth to speak with guitar and knives open your mouth and screech we've banshees here about waiting for the cry I heard you yesterday inside the mountain weeping but I kept going with my pickaxe

I've written one Pizzagate article before, which discusses my theories regarding the ancient origin of certain ruling class cults, and their relevance for American democracy. I don't like writing about

In the reach of history we slip under its cloak, hoping to keep out of the cold, to leave behind old ways and adopt new ones, as quick as we can, with all deliberate speed, and unlike Brown v Board of

The Protocols of the Elders of Zion: a humanist document? It is helpful to view The ("forged") Protocols of the Elders of Zion as a modern version of The Prince, with an important difference.

It’s hard to know exactly what the good old Founding Fathers were thinking back in the day, before the Internet and the railroad and the Slurpee. Though, of course, we do know what they wrote. Did they