Check this review of Heather Minette’s Half Light (isacoustic*, 2018) by James H. Duncan in Hobo Camp Review:
https://hobocampreview.blogspot.com/2020/03/a-review-of-half-light-by-heather.html
Be eye:
be eye
the nest
of an unmade
god
wrestling
the wrong
shape
The weight I put on in your absence. Who I mean in writing ‘your’. It felt good today to be sad about something more normal. Soap carvings in the window of a neighbor of some future fruit they’ll know, I won’t, to miss.
We had over two hundred children and gave the same name to each. We were both impossible and lazy. Bedtimes, fuck me, were harder than funerals. Sometimes a story would go around nearby about Jesus pretending to put his dad in his phone and we could almost see it. No one died waiting to be the first.
About two weeks now working from home. This feels the calm before the storm, or the storm before the black hole. I don’t want my kids to get sick. I am worried about supplies, not the actual reserve, but the perception that there is no supply which will turn some into ghosts haunted by desperation. I so hope that most are too weak to hold steady their guns. People will steal absence before conceding that what is there is for everyone. If we were vacant, previously, what does that hold for the future of nothing left?
Moods for screenplay:
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
It is always just before the sadness that I stop brushing my teeth
Small again
the star is little
Most boys in Ohio have carried that rare dog that can worry about growing old into a store that only accepts prize money. Ohio can’t be everywhere. A hole falls out of the wind and the abuse stops.
