Bodily stories, essays, poems and interviews, updated every month.
I felt stranded between Nigerian-ness and British-ness, not being quite enough of anything to be truly accepted by either group.
it’s gonna be rad to be dead, except for all the TV i’ll miss...
Believe me brother, I’d rather be a freelance animal. Wild. There is no animal more freelance than a slick frog.
On one occasion, I loaded a syringe with vodka and slammed it into my basilic vein. I dropped to my knees and quickly fell unconscious.
let’s finally admit that the Clueless movie soundtrack is and will always be our favorite album of the year, and maybe someone will replace all the percussion to the classic Star Wars theme with Metallica’s St. Anger snare drum sound
The impatient water turned back out of the classroom to join the new wave running around the corner to the history lesson.
Only here is it we are thrilled by the smoke and fire, the explosions
I’d pooped myself a little, and I held it in and climbed down the bunk ladder and penguin-walked down the hallway to the bathroom.
She spent the night evading ghosts, smashing barrels with a hammer, and rescuing princesses. I mostly fell down pits, which resulted in a crappy little song and me losing one of my three lives.
I’m too sensitive for Liquorice All Sorts
She’s piss drunk, slumped over on the cheap card table crammed against the trailer wall. The cool, thin strips of fake wood press against her forehead. The trailer’s got no heat, no electricity. She hunches over to stay warm.
His name was Nicolas, but he went by Colas. He told me he went by Colas because he loved Coca Cola.
After declining sex with a coworker, I can no longer trust our government.
figure 8 your neck / figure 8 your nose / bone by bone
making straight boys blush...
His brother Colin gave him a copy of Chinatown for his birthday, along with a party pack of cherry Twizzlers which they devoured in front of the VCR...
In this episode we talk to Molly Brodak who tells us about her extraordinary personal story which forms the basis of her book, 'Bandit; a Daughter's Memoir'
In the living room walled with music spiral maximized is River lose herself in sludge brain and poly-rhythms with movements that never stop, only move from one part of her body to another.
The pit was black and smelt of rotting roots. A few leaves skated slowly on top and a drowned bee, which would never feel the flight of wing again...
The police instantly smell the rancid smell and see the flies and maggots and other bugs on and around Sam’s refrigerator.
Ghosts from the past lurk in the Indian archives of the British Library. They turn up in unexpected files, opening doors to forgotten histories
Sometimes I would look at her and wonder if I should leave again, if I should go home to my life across an ocean. No matter her eyes, I always got on that plane—the necessary cruelty of being a daughter.
You make a nestout of cigarette butts
Eddie filled out the application, made photocopies of his mother’s death certificate, signed the waiver allowing her grave to be exhumed, then gathered the forms together with a big, sturdy paperclip.
During the period Death Magic was dominating my iTunes, I was also reading a lot of entry-level books about Zen Buddhism