The Late ParadeFrom the Print

Dreams have the following architecture: metallic substance, pursuant laws of mineralness. Vague plunder of booty, plastic robe of pearls. Sesame pirates of our wonderfully dull childhood where a perverted man usurps your surname and wanders the lawn, sprinkling reindeer tears…

Sex with CamelFrom the Print

…the boy knew from experience that if he stepped inside the room a certain alteration of the air would unnerve him—he’d begin to feel that strange sad clutching sensation, that was also a sensation like that of sand slipping away beneath your feet…