Longwalker's New Writeups

Kinko's as the gates of hell (thing)

2013-06-19T16:03:03Z

"You know," she said in a nasally voice,
"your graphic would be a lot better if there were bells !!
& whistles attached," menacing crescendos and
dynamic cinematography wide enough to include a shot of the
lonely boy scribbling REDRUM in the corner shadows.
"Right now, it just feels like letters on a page."

*the next day *

"It won't print," she explained dully
to experience rejection twice by the same bored lady
under fluorescent lights scratching dandruff from her cakey scalpus—
not bringing the amount of toner left
or the quality of your nightmare pamphlet into question,
just stating facts.

"And these days," you'll at least want a lawyer
or a stern consultation before you sign your MC-17 advertising poster
someone (à² _à² ) is watching your every move
archiving your…

spectres tell me your secrets so I might become a champion (thing)

2013-06-19T00:37:13Z

...what if we only just met,
is there such an impression as metempsychosis?

or did I break the only tenet: to not whisper to ghosts—
anxiety navigation, worries as means
to push my subliminal self in the wrong direction

perhaps you subscribe manifest destiny (the color of your eyes tell me you do)
and you've lassoed western leaning clouds from a young age
but in saturnalia, the well off neighborhoods where children play
it became lost on even yourself
the veridian green doesn't tell me this—only the slight furrow in your brow

so drop your shield for an avatar, I dare say a teacher
who will take you outside and open your beautiful face again
in morning covered dew

…

May 30, 2013 (log)

2013-05-31T01:37:37Z

Whoops we murdered a terrorist

So this story broke today and I wish I could say I was surprised. When I read the original story over a week ago, I was fascinated right away simply from the headline. Reading the story further, I was also suspicious right away. A man confesses to basically being an out and out fucked up killer, then proceeds to attack the three armed investigators with a knife? Give me a break. It made me think of Training Day.

That was BEFORE this shit comes out that there was NO KNIFE. A sword was already placed out of the man's reach. So, basically it sounds and probably was a complete fucking cover up. If I could try to imagine a REAL scenario, this dude lunges at an agent (maybe resists arrest) unarmed, and the agents use that as a perfect excuse to pump 7 bullets. Whatever happened, the problem remains--how do you take out the trash.

My…

May 28, 2013 (log)

2013-05-29T18:23:16Z

To you, the man I found coming out of a construction pit last night covered in blood. I thought I may have been off course, moronically parking my car far from the venue leaving me with what seemed like an excessive walk, but this was the same brilliant strike of luck you needed for me to be right there at the right time.

The construction was an ocean, and Iâm not really sure how in the hell you fell in. Maybe it looked comfortable. Maybe someone threw you inside. I didnât really need to ask. But maybe I should have to keep you focused, to keep you from falling asleep as you muttered nonsense but also to call 911. The construction was an ocean, and Iâm not sure if anyone would have found you in there. Iâm not sure if the combination of your high alcohol volume and loss of blood would have been enough for you to wake up in the morning. But I was there, the most unlikely heroâslightly buzzing myself.

You kept apologizing. I didnât get your name, and I donât think I really…

Quantum Computing (thing)

2013-05-29T17:23:24Z

The first rule is to
talk in silence
avoid allusion so that there's nothing
to paint the forest with

Binary is close you can spit
ones and zeroes into an empty well
and wait to see if you hear anything
come back

SOS signals from a dripping cavern
white flags sticking from broken satellites
(transmissions parsed)

Turn the transistor to eleven
and watch the silver surfer
bleed static

So, you (thing)

2013-05-28T04:03:45Z

So you, your kid perpetually running across the street for a ball that never trends an avenue that never ends, maimed roadkill and now your 9th cat is a shy type

who's got sunshine on a cloudy day, corporate bureaucracy with his moral decay into past what time or blue velvet therapy could never heal (tell me your stories and turn on the reel).

Kick your feet up and stay our movies play all night long- supernova galaxies and the beginning of the end, pixelated animorphs breaking through (some alien's) stained glass dimensions to murder their entire pantry snacks.

Space flavored Doritos chips scattered on your chest, youre a cereal killer with an appointment and the man with the stethoscope is looking quizzically at your brain under a translucent scantron with a red plated cross air over your…