by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
When the door close, the gale blow and scrunch the knob against thy weakened fingie-tits. Back home from hard learn’n, you is. Back home from Emelie, the slapping ho, who you took to the boy’s bathroom and showed how to eat a urinal cake. You’ll be slap free soon...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
My fingernails don’t end. Even though I pull them off. I take hold with my thumb and forefinger. I pull a nail off my finger and it just keeps coming like a magician’s handkerchief from his breast pocket or a clown’s handkerchief from his throat....
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
When I shave, there is already some nostalgia for the beard. There is some future and present regret for having removed it from my face. What once looked like a pubic mound with eyes and a mouth is now just a face again. A face in an army of faces, swimming in the...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
Imagine myself a fortune cookie broken up by an unsuspecting fat boy who has crammed so much Chinese buffet food into his throat that it’s actually piled high to the end of his esophagus. I have sat there on the table well past when the young Asian woman placed a...
by admin | May 10, 2022 | Umbrographic Archive
he fridge is a fucking mess. You clean it. Your cousin comes by, a wicked tornado, and moves the cream cheese. He moves the chicken breast. He puts the honey mustard on the top shelf and horizontally orients the milk on the bottom, even though there’s plenty of space...