Now We Are Made Fragile By The Night: A Short Love Story

I open the kitchen drawer to select my instrument, and it is inauthentic. I walk into the kitchen after having left it now I walk back in. Now I am finished in the kitchen for good. I walk outside my parents’ house and there are no stars that I can see. I walk back from … Continue reading →

‘A and O’, a poem about the socio-economic origins of American Loneliness and Alienation, written during my recent visit to Chicago, Illinois

        Today we were in a space altogether passed-over, lit with dampness and advent   And out of it rises a confusion – music is like sand Running out of your hands and into a signature 4/4, misconfigured ink over the table: ridiculous   We speak, and we listen Strangely missing Vaguely … Continue reading →

A Horse is not a Home

So I’ve been at Lollapalooza music festival all weekend in Chicago, enjoying virtually everything about it. After 2 days of trying really hard not to be too much of a tourist with maybe ~4% success rate, we (good friends from WPG + me) hit the fest. Friday provided a bunch of great acts like M83, … Continue reading →

Observations on a Year in Possession of my Tragic Flaw

Last summer I bought a new, old bike a little bit on a whim. But hey it only cost me $50 at “The Bike Dump” so what’s the big deal right? After a year on this bike I’ve come to a period of contemplation Re its value/usefulness. My bike is really cool. It was made … Continue reading →

On Muumuu House / Selections from Tao Lin’s Twitter

If I were sixteen and after having walked into my job at [393 but later and mostly at] 1485 Portage Ave., McNally “Canada’s Largest Independent Bookstore” Robinson, then at 2hrs into my shift having completed several grunge-romantic hours of shelving and labeling books and then hearing from my friend Erik the surprisingly unpretentious art-history major/postmodern lit-lover about … Continue reading →

On Muumuu House / Selections from Tao Lin’s Twitter

If I were sixteen and after having walked into my job at [393 but later and mostly at] 1485 Portage Ave., McNally “Canada’s Largest Independent Bookstore” Robinson, then at 2hrs into my shift having completed several grunge-romantic hours of shelving and labeling books and then hearing from my friend Erik the surprisingly unpretentious art-history major/postmodern lit-lover about … Continue reading →