Jacob Geller

You are reduced to a crawling thing on the margin of a disintegrating world. Nothing will so quickly isolate a man.

And in those days, the Moon shuddered for every spasm of someone that dripped from the eyes of Selene.

Sand is overrated. It’s just tiny little rocks.

What then gives us so great a propension to ascribe an identity to these successive perceptions?

And besides, this isn’t my sword.

I am happy every time to see real personhood resist our tricks. I am happy to see bodies insist they are not shut up in this book, they are elsewhere.

(also titled "I Can’t Stop Talking about Resident Evil 4 VR") I think it is the music of a new life, pouring over the hills with the subtlety of dawn— a cold dawn, a cruel true dawn.

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.

Long Live the New Flesh

People laugh about this, self-soothing engines sputtering through a nosedive. Not me.

Below the thunders of the upper deep, Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea

From one thing, know ten thousand things.

There is no band! Il n'y a pas d'orchestre! This is all a tape-recording. No hay banda! And yet we hear a band.

Some part of you decays while something else feeds from that decay…and you join the chorus. And together you sing the song of growing things.