Soyos Shorts

  NOVEMBER 2, 2022 Share Driving through downpours in a work van with shitty pick up, I have to use the momentum from  going down one hill  to make it up the next, and hope and pray  the bald tires don’t  hydroplane  around the sharp curves  or skid on wet leaves. Or that they do. It depends on my mood.   Written by   Alan ten-Hoeve

  OCTOBER 20, 2022 Share    I don’t know why my mom named him Hitler. Hitler was the sweetest, best friend anyone could have. He would make sure that when I had a bad day at school, he’d do a sprint up the doggy stairs next to my bed and lay down right beside me. There was nothing I loved more in this world than cuddling with Hitler, and feeling his tiny, wet, little brown nose poke me on the cheek when he knew I’d been crying.     “Sandy! You’re going to be late!” Linda screamed. She was sitting in the kitchen, most likely smoking a cigarette and drinking Diet Coke.    I fumbled out of bed and watched Hitler hop down his doggy steps. His tiny legs moved quickly, and as I flung on my unwashed jeans and a sweat-shirt I watched Hitler let out a tiny bark. His tiny nose shook as he spoke, and I went and kissed him straight on the head.    “Come’on, Hitler… We’re going to miss the bus…” I said, before I threw my homework into my backpack and flew...

  OCTOBER 18, 2022 Share     Ardour For this crown, dark Avidity In the balm of this chamber, blush Devotion In brevity To this season, long In the slight of an a.m. downpour, gentility How the scene ached to express itself to me Presented by significance Dressed as Violent elegance Intoned as Brutal magnificence Rousing sentience Waking dormant tenderness Bidding attention     To where I lay To where I’d been laying For hours For days     In Your meat Your marrow Your pith In Your depravity I’ve merry walked In Your brine I’ve sticky rolled In your proclivity I’ve risky peeped And quietly We march the death meadow     So as not to stir the bitter wind Or provoke the nightshade starved Who desire a kill     Wings wide Flut-tut overhead And know its menace Hold breath And hold for the pop and glitter And purr with verve Oh, my Thy drugs are quick   Written by  Nia Di Gennaro

  OCTOBER 15, 2022 Share Aftermath of Paracelsus   i will read something before i understand due to his localization clumsiness than you after me depends on the name not being virus is intervening cyborg itself always alchemist reveal anti-tangle chakras like spiritual earth corpse organ generate brain here finally, when you regurgitate, there is a trick earth about the soul parallel attackers primitive considerations on their own smile living sun destiny's corpse dead hidden in creatures as emotions in firmware quantized and accelerated metal enhances your streaming algorithm causes record variants heterogeneous machines devil attacks is true space machine tools turn you off humans think strategically in territory and put in the tricks of human creatures ... talking zombies with limits … what else hears aggression enjoys more necrotic effusions, but i remain silent about a deliberate union with mankind by creatures develop your deceptive lemurian potential, but it looks like ...

  SEPTEMBER 26, 2022 Share Falling into the black streets, after rose teased hippy dropping slang romance of four thousand years – Jesus the skin o f your mother once stretched over you and my weeping organisms of peanut butter and jam butties under an orange sky waltzing around the blue, that I bathe my imagination in every morning. Sucking on batteries is a sad thrill. Putting pasta on the rice shelf of a supermarket, is sad but these days after lemon zest verbs that caught origin of my first laugh,  I moved my Proust swimming through the dark webs of thread thinning time – I’m always reading Proust but I never finish him. I slide down his greased ink words to Into pooled dark, deep within hidden recesses undisturbed by the fattest bluebottles, that free of the setting sun, into the hungry mouth of the heart before falling asleep, dreaming of petticoats and sorrow.       In kingdoms of nerves and veins, so thick they form columns, bodies loosened from bones...

  SEPTEMBER 19, 2022 Share We had a problem. It was an ant problem. Normally considered a common problem. They’d get in through a crack in the window or a hole in the wall or through the plumbing or escape from our most banal dreams. Still, there they were, and they were a problem. There are some who suggest various solutions for an ant problem. Chemicals. Close the window. Move to a new apartment, new city, new society. But they are all wrong. Why? Because they see this problem as something to be solved and then to move on from. You cannot solve such problems. So we learned to live with the ants. We set up a family committee to manage the “ant situation” (calling it a problem was no longer allowed). Every day the committee would discuss the various ways to keep the ant situation well managed within certain parameters and in certain sectors of the apartment where it was deemed acceptable to have ants. The ant committee also went on to suggest other ways we could arrange the ways we...

SEPTEMBER 16, 2022 Share After a long nap sometimes, you wake up feeling like you’ve been slapped by a different day. A week of stress. It’s a week of stress or it’s a week of nothingness. And that is stressful too. Activity doesn’t always breed value. Sometimes you feel just as hopeless for working hard. I was meant to see Karn this evening. I send him a few texts as a walk around the empty house with no ideas. The thing to do in these situations is always drink. I don’t know what to do tonight. And I’m alone. I have five books on the go at once. I can’t read them all. I didn’t read for all of August. Is my brain still able to put the words in the right place? Words… I need to finish that book. Karn was supposed to come to Father’s Day today. He’s Dadless, like so many. Thankfully, not myself. And I’m willing to share. But Karn didn’t sleep last night. I don’t know the full story. I get a message from Darren. “Have you heard from Karn today?” “Yeah, why?” I don...