Dread Poets Sobriety

poetry

  • Reverse-Mulleting

    Well, hello there you delectable crumpet. Please prepare yourself for the mandatory buttering module. Q: What do a basketball pregame show and a bris have in common? A: Everyone’s just waiting around for the tip-off. Considerably fewer people know what a bris is than I had assumed so this joke has been falling somewhat flat… Continue reading

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  • Pricks and Bones

    There’s something almost magical about sitting down at the computer to write with zero plan. It’s our understanding of infinity loosely fulfilled. Like a queer Schrodinger’s box on meth where the cat could in the end be dead, alive, a velociraptor, potted fern, 1915 Cracker-Jack Ty Cobb Baseball card, Jesus Christ or any other perceivable… Continue reading

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  • A Pale Night

    “And I looked; and I beheld a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.” -Revelations 6:8 Happy return friends to this stellar cellar of secular non-sequitur. In fact, I live on the ground floor. Though one supposes it could still be a basement walkout. Damn you,… Continue reading

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