Tales from the Abyss

Finding a way through the past, the present, and the unspeakable.

Be prepared for anything with D.I.Y. travel Martini ingredients and your twenty-seven nighttime skin-care products.

“It makes sense notionally, a painless hypothesis / for our predicament, crayoned face to bridge / the gulf between grace and the lightning storm.”

B U I L D: You have four hundred and ninety-nine LinkedIn connections, which is tantalizingly close to the coveted “500+” distinction.

“Egyptians saw eternity / in your unspooling center.”

Both are trying to kill me.

“Now we’re older we know who’s gotten sober / or been bitten by God or chewed and discarded / under a dirty bus shelter.”

“The comfort in the smell of bacon in the morning / is mostly burning fat & salt, but the taste is sweet / as the part of the pig that stores the soul.”

Now sit up and let your hips sink back. Feel the ground beneath you, which I’m told has been sold by the federal government to private entities for mineral rights.

“Minute hand looking good.”

The secretary Miss Moneypenny will now be known as Miss Money One Hundred Billion Dollars Money Money Money. Or Alexa.

Why take any chances?