You’ve waited long enough. Stream-of-consciousness rants, poetic reveries, and mind viruses await on the nature of life, death, and everything in between—subjects such as: Homeless teens on Four Loko The various stages of facial/soul disintegration from […]
There was a blue cast to my grandmother’s lips that someone had tried to cover up with makeup. Her hair was done, and her hands were folded, a gesture that does not call to mind […]
Live: Jennifer Robin has worked with avant-garde musicians for twenty years. She booked a live weekly variety show, Night of the Living Tongue, on Portland’s KBOO 90.7 FM, from 1999-2008. She has read and recorded […]
Civilization is a nightmare-illusion, a three-dimensional spreadsheet perpetuated by machines that hypnotize meat. (From the introduction to Death Confetti: Pickers, Punks, and Transit Ghosts in Portland,[…]
Even a backpack can be an explosive device, and whenever I see one abandoned on a highway median or a bus shelter, I think of the teams of plastic-wrapped security drones who will inevitably come […]
The girl was a chubby blonde from the rural zones who spent a lot of time rolling her long velvet breasts above my thigh, happy that she had a girl, just a girl who didn’t […]
Who was its previous owner? Did it have several? I visualized a teenaged boy with a face like a moth. He wore a ruffled tux and held Black Masses in a split-level ranch house. I […]
He turned the ignition. He killed the interior lights. The joyride began—or should I call it a painride? The bus veered out of the suburb. It started racing down country roads. With the interior lights […]
In another life she would have been Joan of Arc, but on this bus she was more like Nurse Ratchett, the big blonde woman with arms like a titan who kept growling at her […]
Death Confetti Official Site 