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Small Press Quotes

Browse 6 quotes about Small Press.

Small Press Quotes

“Their conversation ceased abruptly with the entry of an oddly-shaped man whose body resembled a certain vegetable. He was a thickset fellow with calloused and jaundiced skin and a patch of brown hair, a frizzy upheaval. We will call him Bell Pepper. Bell Pepper sidled up beside The Drippy Man and looked at the grilled cheese in his hand. The Drippy Man, a bit uncomfortable at the heaviness of the gaze, politely apologized and asked Bell Pepper if he would like one. “Why is one of your legs fatter than the other?” asked Bell Pepper. The Drippy Man realized Bell Pepper was not looking at his sandwich but towards the inconsistency of his leg sizes. “You always get your kicks pointing out defects?” retorted The Drippy Man. “Just curious. Never seen anything like it before.” “I was raised not to feel shame and hide my legs in baggy pants.” “So you flaunt your deformity by wearing short shorts?” “Like you flaunt your pockmarks by not wearing a mask?” Bell Pepper backed away, kicking wide the screen door, making an exit to a porch over hanging a dune of sand that curved into a jagged upward jab of rock. “He is quite sensitive,” commented The Dry Advisor. “Who is he?” “A fellow who once manipulated the money in your wallet but now curses the fellow who does.”

WritingPoliticsBooksFutureEconomicsSatireWritersConspiracyApocalypseEnd Of The WorldAuthorsEspionageDystopiaMaineDystopian FictionSpy ThrillerDubaiEconomic CollapseSmall Press
Book:Turban Tan
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“I am running and singing and when it’s raining I’m the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it’s cleaning me. I’m the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles while I peacefully make my way to the river, a lonely road, following the smell of the ocean. I’m the one waking up at 4am to witness the sunrise, where the sky touches the sea, and I hold my elbows, grasping tight to whatever I’ve made of myself.”

SoulRunningPoetryPartySeaSkyOceanSingingLaughterCleanProseEyesFreeSunriseTravelerJournalGypsyWanderlustWanderingTravellingNomadWandererMyselfStreetSingerProse PoetryThe Glass ChildVagabondExpatFree MindSmall PressChapbook4am
Book:Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
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“pissing on photos, we wake parched in parallel realities i still end up drowning in visions he settles for the horror; hostage to the oddity of normal- comfy spot mirage, as he makes the bed daily so he can lie in it and be secret sad boy; he settles to sleepwalk with fantasy, slitting the throat of actual possibility, begging for a hand job to get through the day, making friends with locked doors and collectors of cookie cutters”

PoetryRelationshipsDark HumorSuburbiaPunk PoetryIndie PoetrySmall Press
Book:Altered States of the Unflinching Souls
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