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{LITTLEACTSOFVIOLENCE.MOV}

The board buzzes far above

BUY STIMU-LAX TODAY

I press my hand to the pole

Cold metal buzzes under touch

My sight blurs out

And command prompt appears

Within my eyes

I work my magic

Language archaic on these

The oldest electronic boards

Very little security

Their fault really

Moments of waiting

Then I have access

I upload my own board

And confirm changes

Above it flickers

Shifts

Then is replaced by something else

WHO ARE THE BŁAZEN COURT FIVE?

And below faces

Five folks

Buried by the companies

Lost in the wires

But I remember

And now they will too

I pull up hood

Tap my face cloth cover

It lights up

Sharp teeth displayed

In dazzling blues

One more tonight

Then I’ll go home

I walk a few more blocks

Deeper into the commercial district

Smiling faces

Different races

Different sexes

Some indistinguishable

All beautiful

But something wrong

Something off

Too perfect

Too-tight lips

Too-big eyes

I stop before one ad

A woman enwreathed in light

Smile porcelain perfection

ŁANIA SMILE TODAY!

ONLY 630099R!!!

I pull from my pack

A tall tube

One thin slit open

I tap the top and hold it to the wall

Blue light appears

Telling me it is ready

Slowly I move it from left to right

Program dispenses lines of paint

Rapid and precise

Forming my art

A man

Dropped within gears

Churning

Grinding

And the words

THE CORP REQUIRES MORE BLOOD

And below, my tag

GEISHA

In vibrant purples and pinks

I smile beneath my mask

It’s not much

Really

But it makes me feel better

To know

I’ve ruined the day

Of some black suited drone

Featured image source: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Orr1v

What Lies Within Delver’s Deep

They dared me to go

Down into Delver’s Deep

Where mom always warned against

A set of tunnels that twisted and turned

Curling into the depths

I told them I didn’t want to

That I was scared

And it was dark

But they pushed me

They pushed me in

And I fell

I tumbled

Broken

And battered

I came to rest

So far below

And with not a light all around

The pain was all consuming

Wracking my fragile body

But after a bit

My eyes adjusted

And here on the walls

Grew fungus

Translucent

And effluent

I tried to cry out

But all the sound that I made

Was a miserable and defeated wheeze

Yet

Something heard me

A scuttling in the distance

Above or below

Or even beside

I could not tell

But definitely moving closer

Grandma’s words came

Her warning of this place

“They shut it up for a reason

Things crawl down in there

Things that God’s light never touched

And they’re a terrible sight

Enough to kill a man”

My breathing was ragged

As the sound drew closer

I shut my eyes tight

Taking my grandma’s words

As literal advice

The steps grew faster

Heavy breath coming with

A scrabbling scuttling sound

It rounded whichever corner

And stopped at the sight of me

I whimpered

Eyes shut oh so tight

As it slowly paced closer

I could feel its hot breath

And smell fetid stink

As it leaned over my cowering form

Something thin

And bony

Grasped my ankle

And I was dragged screaming

Into the dark

Flame’s Caress

Bleary eyed buzzing thump

Head a swarm of burbling bugs

Pain recognized shoots across

Tears through brain down my spine

Dark and damp and cold is what I notice

Once the pain plateaus so far above

I crouch and grasp about

For what I don’t know

But some part of me does

A small box rough on a side

I grasp and pull against my chest

Rattling inside little sticks

I smile as I pull one out

Pressing it under thumb

Against strike pad

As I pull it across

My nose notices something important

Something crucial

Acrid and bright

Vaporous and heady

Alcohol

Denatured

And coating all of me

Light and pain is the last I recall

Christmas Gothic

A man in beard and corpulent belly calls for all to sit upon his lap. Tell him your desires. If he deems ye worthy, great fortune… if not…

All over town lights flash and strobe to unheard music. Signs instructing us to listen to the airwaves. We do not. Those few who do drive slow and listless as mindless drones.

Our living rooms are dominated by pine adorned in garish color and light, garland dragging carpet. Somewhere, someone is singing its praises in a language you do not know.

Relatives from all over come to your door. Who are these people? Have you ever met them before? They devour your hard won meals with fervent greed.

Carols at the doors. We dare not open. They call for wassail. Banging and wailing as lost souls. We pretend not to be at home.

It is late. The children sleep. Within their house something creeps. A man in cheap red suit and cotton beard places surprises for those little ones to find. He is prepared if one should awaken. He crunches cookies with a snifter of scotch.

Presents beneath the tree. Children stare on in shock. Who delivered them? When? While they all slept, ignorant and secure.

Parents stare on in dull silence, eyeing children tearing at wrapping like wolves upon a deer. Eyes are sunken and dark. They sip brown brew and silently thank they made it through another year.