How could it be that there is nothing behind that face, unique as it is: crooked, worn from the grinding years of tension? How could it be that never was anyone home when there was such throbbing, such life force, to wear down his teeth and twist his body? His stormy words. His wild gestures. Such exuberance as parent and teacher. How could it be? … Continue reading Surface Show by M. A. Istvan Jr.
We dance and sing Jackson’s Thriller, attempting to rile the black whore cracked out against the trestle fencing. Camera full zoom, she yells “Ya’ll niggas on some anti-horny shit!” My buddy and I buckle in laughter. “Don’t be deceived,” I tell the viewer. “Our subject, species toothless-wonder, is not just spewing nonsense here. This is an attempt to attack us for not treating her as … Continue reading Nature Channel Narrator by M. A. Istvan Jr.