Carl Schlachte


Sluiced through forensic violence and panicked multivalence we carried our undertones cradling visions of evenings all violet onto the uptown train.





I scoffed at your plan to begin reprinting mostly older knowledge. I strongly believed it was no longer useful to our ongoing change of pace in habits.





Here’s a joke I tell children: I am functionally blogless. My limbs crossed cruciform longways, a refusal to say more about research and





And fell into it, like a fortress. It was larger than it needed to be by your side tonight, for your comfort, so as not to wake you. Cross a nearby bridge or footpath.





Just download new teeth when the time comes, and things will taste the same. I cut my mouth on the edges of the bread; the bread’s edges cut my mouth.





There is a defiance of mercy in gaps between sensations. This suggests  that I’ve forgotten your name once again and can’t recall





A hand-rubricated afternoon, my finest specimen of the incunabula period, acquired at private auction for prices well below the market norm





In television shows I look out the windows behind the characters, not at the actions and scenes intended for viewers’ entertainment.





What caught my intentions was blue shoe laces. There was an outdated quote here but it decayed. Mostly older knowledge, so as not to wake you.





Fundament, in the sense of the stage, designed to be hand-rubricated—why deny the necessity of remembering, just awake enough to notice





My subconscious slipping fears in where they didn’t originate: I am functionally blogless; with regard to plans, that one is tentative





An example of a city I migrated into. Here’s another example of how stupid I’ve gotten: a train delay three miles long, exceeding recall.





Did you clear the road so that supplies could get through? Here the artist has authorized a relief package of emergency undertones.





New teeth are tax-deductible as a business expense, I demanded that my CPA be as ignorant as he could justify in the circumstance.





In television shows I look out windows behind the characters to see nearby bridges or footpaths, suggesting a world not real, but actual.





Here’s another example of how stupid I’ve gotten: this could have been your sound. I ignored it. Began reprinting my teeth as a lazy afternoon





The artist has authorized five images, presenting (Pages of halftone paintings) on glossy cover stock which makes the art feel wealthier.





Sorry I’ve forgotten your name, I have trouble with names and because I don’t remember yours I also don’t remember who you are.





Please don’t let me be as well as I think I could justify being. You loaned my blue shoelaces to a neighbor with a sense of agency, leaving me older










It's easy to recognize famous locales in movies and television filmed in major American cities: they're specifically used to signal place. But when they depict places that aren't famous, places that signify "normal America," I find it much more affecting as a viewer to see a place I recognize. If I'm watching something that presents the possibility of recognition, I've found myself straining so much harder to look through the windows of the fictional world and out into the one I know, instead.