Jonathan Acosta-Rubio
Profile
Drink.
Write.
Fuck.
Love.
Cigarettes.
Sleep.
Art
Writings
Autoerotic Asphyxiation
You still made me feel cheap, / even in that 700 dollar suit. / Your voice and its wool chafe / rubbed me raw. / I couldn’t breath. / You were talking to him / and my tie was too tight. / Ha, a…
The Most Beautiful Beacon
HE RAN HIS hands through heavens silk while she lay sleeping, letting her hair slide slowly through the thick cracks of stubby fingers into beautiful rays on the old pillow beneath her head. His sad …
Fear and Loathing aboard the Pequod
Call me Raoul. There I was, some time ago, on the verge of a revolution. My own personal war with the man I had become and the man I wanted to be. Armed to the teeth with rhetoric and six guns, bar…
menu
Breakfast $7.95 / It was another Monday. My mouth tasted like sleep. I patted my tongue to the sticky roof of my mouth and struggled with the idea of taking a shower. It had been about four …
Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus
The fiddle sounds sweet / in his bedtime slippers but / I don’t have his chicken legs / the columns laughed / “Thank Zeus!” / and the statues stood / in benevolent gr…
my room is so small, the mice are hunchbacked
my room is so small, the mice are hunchbacked. it has become my only entertainment, my lullaby. watching the ballet of starving kysophic rodents isn’t so terrible because they move slowly, making …







