Author Archives: Catastrophe Jones

Every winter she paces the pavement, nimblefingered hands stealing wallets from slickhaired men. She sleeps on rags and cardboard stuffed deep into the steel and concrete vaults of overpasses, nests made of necessity and spite. She walks when it’s too … Continue reading →

Why’s it matter what’s the matter you can say what you want, it’s hardly gonna change the fact hardly gonna change what happens once we fall apart once we fall apart we’re done for good and we’re done for good … Continue reading →

My fingertips are getting blue. Is it cold or lack of air or maybe lack of you? It drives me to become different colors? How much of me is missing because I can’t breathe you in? What of me lacks … Continue reading →

I’m back in that space where it’s perfect to be spread for you, gorgeously undone. I know you know what I want, the cold scalpel, the hot stone, the heaviness of your glove, the pressure of your fist. Back in … Continue reading →

Wish I could pluck out your eyes, peel off your skin, tear out your hair, rip off limb and stem and root and hate you to death. Wish I could drown you and everything about you. Wish I knew a … Continue reading →