Sunday Cartoon

Cartoons, humor, Uncategorized

cartoon #4


small details


      languid and far away

these whispers fail

      they hail

                                 my brother

                                         my mother

jumping over time tricks, lost and wild

     whispers lose against space


from another shot

      bleeds a teleological body,

garishly sifting through the means until

      it collides with




      in the beginning all I wanted

was to know how the

      world on a




      but what happens

when my two working fingers,

      like vipera, are unable

               to comb for

               the small



      to dig for

mine… mine…



in loop

short story

Don’t go over there. There’s the edge, right underneath that bush. If you waver, you’re done for.

But still I crept, crying as they kept pushing and yelling. Someone tried to pull me away from her.

I am not crying as we hold hands and toss made up words in the air, every day.

I woke up and I thought I remembered being here, by the desolate plane, crowned by a single bush. Then he came and warned me to stay close or else I would fall. When I fall it doesn’t feel endless at all.

Still, I was thinking of the time we held each other’s hands.

Going | Seconds



Once, but not twice.

       again does not persist
        a passive chicken overtaken by fright

of changing

   turning everything around
The proud cost of leaving time

   To its own devices

corroding lines in the eyes of the chicken

Infinitely significant (or not) because of “once”



Seconds like lonely birds that fly

To some dry serenity
Left empty in its passing.

The Imperceptible


There are the imperceptible things

That I constantly long for

And then there are inscrutable things that stand

at the center of the way

Harsh, rugged the inconceivable reality,

The cutting interruptions,

crimes against my understanding.

I dive down like a dog in a storm

When I get a glimpse of the sunset,

I look for the subtle, hidden stars next to the sun

They are slow to come. They are shy and deceptive.

Still, I linger, longer than before, I linger

Without a plan or goal, the longer I linger

The more I gather time in my pocket.