Two Stories
By Christopher Kennedy - Nov 25, 2019
You can gamble in the casino of stars at night where the moon looks like a pill and God deals you a terrible hand and there are no limits. You, the famous unknown, holding your baby and your syringe, waiting to be discovered by reality. Head full of sky, throat full of spiders.
Read More >Sorry, No Blues Magoos
By Christopher Kennedy - Sep 3, 2019
They give me the freedom to do this, this thing they call telling the truth. Summon me. I promise to do the chores.
Read More >I Called Shotgun When You Died
By Christopher Kennedy - Jan 11, 2019
I called shotgun when you died, thinking we could still ride together through the neighborhood, selling bags of light to the newly dead. It didn’t seem fair that you had to cross the river by yourself.
Read More >Three Prose Poems
By Christopher Kennedy - Feb 7, 2018
Will we be broken as light is broken in water, refracted, a trick? Even in our sleep we can’t forget. Stars eating stars. Blue water stippled with light. A shoebox full of teeth. A dog full of many other dogs.
Read More >Three Prose Poems
By Christopher Kennedy - Nov 13, 2017
Sustainability
Nothing to eat except the same flora and fauna, brightly packaged, colorful, like a clown’s face, and you have to choose, read the ingredients, set the time. Outside, querulous birdsong. Diesels struggling up the hill beneath a colorless sky.
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