Introducing:

[Veronica Skripka (Classics/Dance) literally disrobes amid an auditorium of hundreds at the crest of applause already destined for her. Self-consciously, the clapping ceases. It was fomented by The Dean’s announcing Veronica’s speech, but is quickly sputtering out lest it be misprisen as having commenced anent the clothing’s fall. Beneath the rapidly cascading store-rented billows, Miss …

In my terror I scratched—nail into nostril—parodic to the film Poltergeist, dread reflected in the mirror—my expression muted by the dead shower’s neutralizing fog. Blood only visible on my fingers, the pennyscent was just imagined.  Anything chemic was gone; I’d been defected by our global grippe. *** When John Milton went blind (presumably from Onan’s…

I was wending down a sixlane nightmarescape: some hoary lumbering Chevy truck honkhonking with odd lethargy behind me, as My Partner aped its sound with her own throat in a fit of mild distraction. Spinachgreen the exit sign, flaming red the head of the rearview motorist, moonwhite her nails calackcalacking Spotify, and empty the avenue…