Inhuman Swill | Blog | William Shunn

Inhuman Swill : Page 11

Why is my blog called Inhuman Swill? Because you can unscramble the pieces to make William Shunn.

Butt

stubbed-out cigarette moldering wet in the sink on the Paris train read

The stumbling block

I can't sit down to write a poem without hearing Garrison Keillor's voice, reading it over my shoulder. read

Tuesday Funk: The Blizzard Edition

First off, I must say that I made it home and back safely. There was some debate about whether or not this month's Tuesday Funk reading would even happen, what with the blizzard and all going on here in Chicago.... read

Under their skirts

The sidewalk trees drop their skirts of dirty snow for a silver-tongued winter rain, exposing a careless mulch of cigarettes butts, not to mention the occasional dog turd and chicken bone. Nothing better to do, trees, than eat, shit, and... read

Infidel dog

This morning, with a high of seventy degrees in the forecast, amazing for a November in Chicago, I drove the dog to Warren Park. That's where we go for a special treat instead of our usual neighborhood walk, because the... read

Smoke

I make it my general practice not to drink and write. At least, I try not to drink when writing fiction, where the prose should be clear and lucid as water, even as it refracts the light. But poetry's a... read

Almost fall

Squirrels chasing each Other up and around trees Like on Benny Hill read

Immortality

I have no illusions of immortality Or do I? The way I shovel known poisons into my mouth Shout motherfucker at drivers who cut me off The way I still haven't put up the smoke alarms, two years later The... read

Hacking reality

Back in June, during the week I attended the Starry Heaven workshop in Flagstaff, organizer extraordinaire Sarah K. Castle put together a little panel discussion on the interactions between science fiction and actual science. Titled "Science + Fantasy = Science... read

Dogwalker's algorithm

if poop then scoop read