Stephen Hawking Warns Artificial Intelligence Could End Mankind There is no algorithm to explain away suffering or to reanimate the skitter a leaf makes as it crosses a boyhood memory of idleness, and the most disturbing part of the brain turned positronic is that indolence would dwindle or be rewritten with code, but … Continue reading
she taught you how to wriggle your hips until
the boys curdled like sour milk, told you tangency was just another
way of touching yourself. Continue reading
We held Molotov Cocktail Nights for only three consecutive Fridays. We were all somewhere around eighteen give or take. On the first, Chris spray-painted a concrete bridge pylon with the black outline of a Christmas tree. He was always drawing Christmas trees. He swiped his favorite number in the center: 1225. The paint dribbled. Continue reading
Rumor is this devastates men. Continue reading
Fred Durst: A Ghost Story Dude at the bar looks just like Fred Durst. Backward baseball cap, Red Sox now instead of Yankees. Tattoo-covered forearms. Frat-boy face with a thin sliver of goatee. Sunday afternoon: he’s the only one in the Boise, Idaho, Spearmint Rhino. Right in the middle of the bar, across from the … Continue reading
In the acute care area, gurneys line the walls, small curtains opening up to people triaged out of their street clothes into cotton gowns and tiny beds. A man yells about razor blades in his veins, begs for medication for withdrawals. Another sits upright, the right side of his skull caved in and drooping into his shoulder like a chocolate bunny left to melt in the sun. Continue reading
Two poems by Alexa Doran: “Pretty Young Thing By Michael Jackson, a Translation” and “Untvanna” Continue reading
Name It Mommy told me to name it so I decided to call it Cinco because my best friend Augasantas taught me to count to five in Spanish and it was fun. But when Mommy told me to name it Daddy gave her a funny look and later that night I heard them screaming at … Continue reading
Awake Next to the Snoring 1:54 a.m. Remember: the great thing about this situation is that now you’ve got all this time to think. And so far, this is what you know: The snore has many dialects. There are plugged snorts, floppy exhales, whistling librettos, and sounds akin to a toilet-paper-stuffed trumpet struggling to be … Continue reading
The James Franco Review 